Brutally handled though he was, Paul offered no resistance; and, while they were pushing him with needless violence towards a perpendicular part of the cliff, he continued his inner calculations:

"It is mathematically certain that the two explosions took place at distances of three hundred and four hundred yards, respectively. I can therefore also take it as certain that Bernard and Prince Conrad were on the far side and that the men in pursuit were on this side. So all is for the best."

Docilely and with a sort of chaffing complacency he submitted to the preparations for his execution. The twelve soldiers entrusted with it were already drawn up in line under the bright rays of an electric search-light and were only waiting for the order. The corporal whom he had wounded early in the fight dragged himself up to him and snarled:

"Shot! ... You're going to be shot, you dirty Franzose!"

He answered, with a laugh:

"Not a bit of it! Things don't happen as quickly as all that.""Shot!" repeated the other. "Herr Leutnant said so."

"Well, what's he waiting for, your Herr Leutnant?"

The lieutenant was making a rapid investigation at the entrance to the tunnel. The men who had gone down it came running back, half-asphyxiated by the fumes of the explosion. As for the sentry, whom Bernard had been forced to get rid of, he was losing blood so profusely that it was no use trying to obtain any fresh information from him.

At that moment, news arrived from the barracks, where they had just learnt, through a courier sent from the villa, that Prince Conrad had disappeared. The officers were ordered to double the guard and to keep a good lookout, especially at the approaches.

Of course, Paul had counted on this diversion or some other of the same kind which would delay his execution. The day was beginning to break and he had little doubt that, Prince Conrad having been left dead drunk in his bedroom, one of his servants had been told to keep a watch on him. Finding the doors locked, the man must have given the alarm. This would lead to an immediate search.

But what surprised Paul was that no one suspected that the prince had been carried off through the tunnel. The sentry was lying unconscious and was unable to speak. The men had not realized that, of the two fugitives seen at a distance, one was dragging the other along. In short, it was thought that the prince had been assassinated. His murderers must have flung his body into some corner of the quarries and then taken to flight. Two of them had succeeded in escaping. The third was a prisoner. And nobody for a second entertained the least suspicion of an enterprise whose audacity simply surpassed imagination.

In any case there could no longer be any question of shooting Paul without a preliminary inquiry, the results of which must first be communicated to the highest authorities. He was taken to the villa, where he was divested of his German overcoat, carefully searched and lastly was locked up in a bedroom under the protection of four stalwart soldiers.

He spent several hours in dozing, glad of this rest, which he needed so badly, and feeling very easy in his mind, because, now that Karl was dead, the Comtesse Hermine absent and Élisabeth in a place of safety, there was nothing for him to do but to await the normal course of events.

At ten o'clock he was visited by a general who endeavored to question him and who, receiving no satisfactory replies, grew angry, but with a certain reserve in which Paul observed the sort of respect which people feel for noted criminals. And he said to himself:

"Everything is going as it should. This visit is only a preliminary to prepare me for the coming of a more serious ambassador, a sort of plenipotentiary."

He gathered from the general's words that they were still looking for the prince's body. They were now in fact looking for it beyond the immediate precincts, for a new clue, provided by the discovery and the revelations of the chauffeur whom Paul and Bernard had imprisoned in the garage, as well as by the departure and return of the motor car, as reported by the sentries, widened the field of investigation considerably.

At twelve o'clock Paul was provided with a substantial meal. The attentions shown to him increased. Beer was served with the lunch and afterwards coffee.

"I shall perhaps be shot," he thought, "but with due formality and not before they know exactly who the mysterious person is whom they have the honor of shooting, not to mention the motives of his enterprise and the results obtained. Now I alone am able to supply the details. Consequently ..."

He so clearly felt the strength of his position and the necessity in which his enemies stood to contribute to the success of his plan that he was not surprised at being taken, an hour later, to a small drawing-room in the villa, before two persons all over gold lace, who first had him searched once more and then saw that he was fastened up with more elaborate care than ever.

"It must," he thought, "be at least the imperial chancellor coming all the way from Berlin to see me ... unless indeed ..."

Deep down within himself, in view of the circumstances, he could not help foreseeing an even more powerful intervention than the chancellor's; and, when he heard a motor car stop under the windows of the villa and saw the fluster of the two gold-laced individuals, he was convinced that his anticipations were being fully confirmed.

Everything was ready. Even before any one appeared, the two individuals drew themselves up and stood to attention; and the soldiers, stiffer still, looked like dolls out of a Noah's ark.

The door opened. And a whirlwind entrance took place, amid a jingling of spurs and saber. The man who arrived in this fashion at once gave an impression of feverish haste and of imminent departure. What he intended to do he must accomplish within the space of a few minutes.

At a sign from him, all those present quitted the room.

The Emperor and the French officer were left face to face. And the Emperor immediately asked, in an angry voice:

"Who are you? What did you come to do? Who are your accomplices? By whose orders were you acting?"

It was difficult to recognize in him the figure represented by his photographs and the illustrations in the newspapers, for the face had aged into a worn and wasted mask, furrowed with wrinkles and disfigured with yellow blotches.

Paul was quivering with hatred, not so much a personal hatred aroused by the recollection of his own sufferings as a hatred made up of horror and contempt for the greatest criminal imaginable. And, despite his absolute resolve not to depart from the usual formulas and the rules of outward respect, he answered:

"Let them untie me!"

The Emperor started. It was the first time certainly that any one had spoken to him like that; and he exclaimed:

"Why, you're forgetting that a word will be enough to have you shot! And you dare! Conditions! ..."

Paul remained silent. The Emperor strode up and down, with his hand on the hilt of his sword, which he dragged along the carpet. Twice he stopped and looked at Paul; and, when Paul did not move an eyelid, he resumed his march, with an increasing display of indignation. And, all of a sudden, he pressed the button of an electric bell:

"Untie him!" he said to the men who hurried into the room.

When released from his bonds, Paul rose up and stood like a soldier in the presence of his superior officer.

The room was emptied once again. Then the Emperor went up to Paul and, leaving a table as a barrier between them, asked, still in a harsh voice:

"Prince Conrad?"

Paul answered:

"Prince Conrad is not dead, sir; he is well."

"Ah!" said the Kaiser, evidently relieved. And, still reluctant to come to the point, he continued: "That does not affect matters in so far as you are concerned. Assault ... espionage ... not to speak of the murder of one of my best servants. ..."

"Karl the spy, sir? I killed him in self-defense."

"But you did kill him? Then for that murder and for the rest you shall be shot."

"No, sir. Prince Conrad's life is security for mine."

The Emperor shrugged his shoulders:

"If Prince Conrad is alive he will be found."

"No, sir, he will not be found."

"There is not a place in Germany where my searching will fail to find him," he declared, striking the table with his fist.

"Prince Conrad is not in Germany, sir."

"Eh? What's that? Then where is he?"

"In France."

"In France!"

"Yes, sir, in France, at the ChÂteau d'Ornequin, in the custody of my friends. If I am not back with them by six o'clock to-morrow evening, Prince Conrad will be handed over to the military authorities."

The Emperor seemed to be choking, so much so that his anger suddenly collapsed and that he did not even seek to conceal the violence of the blow. All the humiliation, all the ridicule that would fall upon him and upon his dynasty and upon the empire if his son were a prisoner, the loud laughter that would ring through the whole world at the news, the assurance which the possession of such a hostage would give to the enemy; all this showed in his anxious look and in the stoop of his shoulders.

Paul felt the thrill of victory. He held that man as firmly as you hold under your knee the beaten foe who cries out for mercy; and the balance of the forces in conflict was so definitely broken in his favor that the Kaiser's very eyes, raised to Paul's, gave him a sense of his triumph.

The Emperor was able to picture the various phases of the drama enacted during the previous night: the arrival through the tunnel, the kidnapping by the way of the tunnel, the exploding of the mines to ensure the flight of the assailants; and the mad daring of the adventure staggered him. He murmured:

"Who are you?"

Paul relaxed slightly from his rigid attitude. He placed a quivering hand upon the table between them and said, in a grave tone:

"Sixteen years ago, sir, in the late afternoon of a September day, you inspected the works of the tunnel which you were building from Èbrecourt to Corvigny under the guidance of a person—how shall I describe her—of a person highly placed in your secret service. At the moment when you were leaving a little chapel which stands in the Ornequin woods, you met two Frenchmen, a father and son—you remember, sir? It was raining—and the meeting was so disagreeable to you that you allowed a gesture of annoyance to escape you. Ten minutes later, the lady who accompanied you returned and tried to take one of the Frenchmen, the father, back with her to German territory, alleging as a pretext that you wished to speak to him. The Frenchman refused. The woman murdered him before his son's eyes. His name was Delroze. He was my father."

The Kaiser had listened with increasing astonishment. It seemed to Paul that his color had become more jaundiced than ever. Nevertheless he kept his countenance under Paul's gaze. To him the death of that M. Delroze was one of those minor incidents over which an emperor does not waste time. Did he so much as remember it?

He therefore declined to enter into the details of a crime which he had certainly not ordered, though his indulgence for the criminal had made him a party to it, and he contented himself, after a pause, with observing:

"The Comtesse Hermine is responsible for her own actions."

"And responsible only to herself," Paul retorted, "seeing that the police of her country refused to let her be called to account for this one."The Emperor shrugged his shoulders, with the air of a man who scorns to discuss questions of German morality and higher politics. He looked at his watch, rang the bell, gave notice that he would be ready to leave in a few minutes and, turning to Paul, said:

"So it was to avenge your father's death that you carried off Prince Conrad?"

"No, sir, that is a question between the Comtesse Hermine and me; but with Prince Conrad I have another matter to settle. When Prince Conrad was staying at the ChÂteau d'Ornequin, he pestered with his attentions a lady living in the house. Finding himself rebuffed by her, he brought her here, to his villa, as a prisoner. The lady bears my name; and I came to fetch her."

It was evident from the Emperor's attitude that he knew nothing of the story and that his son's pranks were a great source of worry to him.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Is the lady here?"

"She was here last night, sir. But the Comtesse Hermine resolved to do away with her and gave her into the charge of Karl the spy, with instructions to take her out of Prince Conrad's reach and poison her."

"That's a lie!" cried the Emperor. "A damnable lie!"

"There is the bottle which the Comtesse Hermine handed to Karl the spy.""And then? And then?" said the Kaiser, in an angry voice.

"Then, sir, as Karl the spy was dead and as I did not know the place to which my wife had been taken, I came back here. Prince Conrad was asleep. With the aid of one of my friends, I brought him down from his room and sent him into France through the tunnel."

"And I suppose, in return for his liberty, you want the liberty of your wife?"

"Yes, sir."

"But I don't know where she is!" exclaimed the Emperor.

"She is in a country house belonging to the Comtesse Hermine. Perhaps, if you would just think, sir ... a country house a few hours off by motor car, say, a hundred or a hundred and twenty miles at most."

The Emperor, without speaking, kept tapping the table angrily with the pommel of his sword. Then he said:

"Is that all you ask?"

"No, sir."

"What? You want something more?"

"Yes, sir, the release of twenty French prisoners whose names appear on a list given me by the French commander-in-chief."

This time the Emperor sprang to his feet with a bound:

"You're mad! Twenty prisoners! And officers, I expect? Commanders of army corps? Generals?"

"The list also contains the names of privates, sir."

The Emperor refused to listen. His fury found expression in wild gestures and incoherent words. His eyes shot terrible glances at Paul. The idea of taking his orders from that little French subaltern, himself a captive and yet in a position to lay down the law, must have been fearfully unpleasant. Instead of punishing his insolent enemy, he had to argue with him and to bow his head before his outrageous proposals. But he had no choice. There was no means of escape. He had as his adversary one whom not even torture would have caused to yield.

And Paul continued:

"Sir, my wife's liberty against Prince Conrad's liberty would really not be a fair bargain. What do you care, sir, whether my wife is a prisoner or free? No, it is only reasonable that Prince Conrad's release should be the object of an exchange which justifies it. And twenty French prisoners are none too many. ... Besides, there is no need for this to be done publicly. The prisoners can come back to France, one by one, if you prefer, as though in exchange for German prisoners of the same rank ... so that ..."

The irony of these conciliatory words, intended to soften the bitterness of defeat and to conceal the blow struck at the imperial pride under the guise of a concession! Paul thoroughly relished those few minutes. He received the impression that this man, upon whom a comparatively slight injury to his self-respect inflicted so great a torment, must be suffering more seriously still at seeing his gigantic scheme come to nothing under the formidable onslaught of destiny.

"I am nicely revenged," thought Paul to himself. "And this is only the beginning!"

The capitulation was at hand. The Emperor declared:

"I shall see. ... I will give orders. ..."

Paul protested:

"It would be dangerous to wait, sir. Prince Conrad's capture might become known in France ..."

"Well," said the Emperor, "bring Prince Conrad back and your wife shall be restored to you the same day."

But Paul was pitiless. He insisted on being treated with entire confidence:

"No, sir," he said, "I do not think that things can happen just like that. My wife is in a most horrible position; and her very life is at stake. I must ask to be taken to her at once. She and I will be in France this evening. It is imperative that we should be in France this evening."

He repeated the words in a very firm tone and added:

"As for the French prisoners, sir, they can be returned under such conditions as you may be pleased to state. I will give you a list of their names with the places at which they are interned."

Paul took a pencil and a sheet of paper. When he had finished writing, the Emperor snatched the list from him and his face immediately became convulsed. At each name he seemed to shake with impotent rage. He crumpled the paper into a ball, as though he had resolved to break off the whole arrangement. But, all of a sudden, abandoning his resistance, with a hurried movement, as though feverishly determined to have done with an exasperating business, he rang the bell three times.

An orderly officer entered with a brisk step and brought his heels together before the Kaiser.

The Emperor reflected a few seconds longer. Then he gave his commands:

"Take Lieutenant Delroze in a motor car to Schloss Hildensheim and bring him back with his wife to the Èbrecourt outposts. On this day week, meet him at the same point on our lines. He will be accompanied by Prince Conrad and you by the twenty French prisoners whose names are on this list. You will effect the exchange in a discreet manner, which you will fix upon with Lieutenant Delroze. That will do. Keep me informed by personal reports."

This was uttered in a jerky, authoritative tone, as though it were a series of measures which the Emperor had adopted of his own initiative, without undergoing pressure of any kind and by the mere exercise of his imperial will.

And, having thus settled the matter, he walked out, carrying his head high, swaggering with his sword and jingling his spurs.

"One more victory to his credit! What a play-actor!" thought Paul, who could not help laughing, to the officer's great horror.

He heard the Emperor's motor drive away. The interview had lasted hardly ten minutes.

A moment later he himself was outside, hastening along the road to Hildensheim.