第84章 CHAPTER XLII(2)

"Prince," he said, "if I by any chance numbered myself amongst your friends I would warn you that you yourself are a traitor to your Order. You prostitute a great cause when you stoop to use its machinery to assist your own private vengeance. I ask you for your own sake to consider your words. Lucille is mine - mine she will remain, even though you should descend to something more despicable, more cowardly than ordinary treason, to wrest her from me. You reproach me with the failures of my life. Great they may have been, but if you attempt this you will find that I am not yet an impotent person."

The Prince was white with rage. The sight of Lucille standing by Mr. Sabin's side, her hand lightly resting upon his, her dark eyes full of inscrutable tenderness, maddened him. He was flouted and ignored. He was carried away by a storm of passion. He tore a sheet of paper from his pocket book, and unlocking a small gold case at the end of his watch chain, shook from it a pencil with yellow crayon. Mr. Sabin leaned over towards him.

"You sign it at your peril, Prince," he said. "It will mean worse things than that for you."

For a second he hesitated. Lucille also leaned towards him.

"Prince," she said, "have I not kept my vows faithfully? Think!

I came from America at a moment's notice; I left my husband without even a word of farewell; I entered upon a hateful task, and though to think of it now makes me loathe myself - I succeeded. I have kept my vows, I have done my duty. Be generous now, and let me go."

The sound of her voice maddened him. A passionate, arbitrary man, to whom nothing in life had been denied, to be baulked in this great desire of his latter days was intolerable. He made no answer to either of them. He wrote a few lines with the yellow crayon and passed them silently across to Lucille.

Her face blanched. She stretched out an unwilling hand. But Mr.

Sabin intervened. He took the paper from the Prince's hand, and calmly tore it into fragments. There Was a moment's breathless silence.

"Victor!" Lucille cried. "Oh, what have you done!"

The Prince's face lightened with an evil joy.

"We now, I think," he said, "understand one another. You will permit me to wish you a very pleasant evening, and a speedy leave-taking."

Mr. Sabin smiled.

"Many thanks, my dear Prince," he said lightly. "Make haste and complete your charming little arrangements. Let me beg of you to avoid bungling this time. Remember that there is not in the whole of Europe to-day a man more dangerous to you than I."

The Prince had departed. Mr. Sabin lit a cigarette and stood on the hearthrug. His eyes were bright with the joy of fighting.

"Lucille," he said, "I see that you have not touched your liqueur.

Oblige me by drinking it. You will find it excellent."

She came over to him and hung upon his arm. He threw his cigarette away and kissed her upon the lips.

"Victor," she murmured, "I am afraid. You have been rash!"

"Dearest," he answered, "it is better to die fighting than to stand aside and watch evil things. But after all, there is no fear. Come!

Your cloak and dressing case!"

"You have plans?" she exclaimed, springing up.

"Plans?" He laughed at her a little reproachfully. "My dear Lucille! A carriage awaits us outside, a special train with steam up at the Gard de L'ouest. This is precisely the contingency for which I have planned."

"Oh, you are wonderful, Victor," she murmured as she drew on her coat. "But what corner of the earth is there where we should be safe?"

"I am going," Mr. Sabin said, "to try and make every corner of the earth safe."

She was bewildered, but he only laughed and held open the door for her. Mr. Sabin made no secret of his departure. He lingered for a moment in the doorway to light a cigarette, he even stopped to whisper a few words to the little man in plain dinner clothes who was lounging in the doorway. But when they had once left the hotel they drove fast.

In less than half an hour Paris was behind them. They were traveling in a royal saloon and at a fabuulous cost, for in France they are not fond of special trains. But Mr. Sabin was very happy.

At least he had escaped an ignominious defeat. It was left to him to play the great card.

"And now," Lucille said, coming out from her little bed-chamber which the femme de chambre was busy preparing, "suppose you tell me where we are going."

Mr. Sabin smiled.

"Do not be alarmed," he said, "even though it will sound to you the least likely place in the world. We are going to Berlin."