off from."

There was a sound of a door shutting; the Prince started, looked at
Wogan, and laughed. He had been upon the verge of yielding; but for that
door Wogan felt sure he would have yielded. Now, however, he merely
walked away to the Countess of Berg, and sitting beside her asked her to
play a particular tune. But he still held the slip of paper in his hand
and paid but a scanty heed to the music, now and then looking doubtfully
towards Wogan, now and then scanning that long list of names. His lips,
too, moved as though he was framing the three selected names, Gaydon,
Misset, O'Toole, and "Schlestadt" as a bracket uniting them. Then he
suddenly rose up and crossed the room to Wogan.

"My daughter wrote that a woman must attend her. It is a necessary
provision."

"Your Highness, Misset has a wife, and the wife matches him."

"They are warned to be ready?"

"At your Highness's first word that slip of paper travels to Schlestadt.
It is unsigned, it imperils no one, it betrays nothing. But it will tell
its story none the less surely to those three men, for Gaydon knows my
hand."

The Prince smiled in approval.

"You have prudence, Mr. Warner, as well as audacity," said he. He gave
the paper back, listened for a little to the Countess, who was bending
over her harp-strings, and then remarked, "The Prince's letter was in
his own hand too?"

"But in cipher."

"Ah!"

The Prince was silent for a while. He balanced himself first on one
foot, then on the other.

"Ciphers," said he, "are curious things, compelling to the imagination
and a provocation to the intellect."

Mr. Wogan kept a grave face and he replied with unconcern, though his
heart beat quick; for if the Prince had so much desire to see the
Chevalier's letter, he must be well upon his way to consenting to
Wogan's plan.

"If your Highness will do me the honour to look at this cipher. It has
baffled the most expert."

His Highness condescended to be pleased with Wogan's suggestion. Wogan
crossed the room towards the door; but before he reached it, the
Countess of Berg suddenly took her fingers from her harp-strings with a
gesture of annoyance.

"Mr. Warner," she said, "will you do me the favour to screw this wire
tighter?" And once or twice she struck it with her fingers.

"May I claim that privilege?" said the Prince.

"Your Highness does me too much honour," said the Countess, but the
Prince was already at her side. At once she pointed ou