“Watchman! you’ve been tampering with Old Nick.”

“But I rejected the offer.”

“You rejected the offer of the Minister?”

“Yes, your Highness.  And, moreover, I have entirely reconciled the Baroness Bonau with the Chamberlain Pilzou.”

“Which of us two is a fool?”

“Another thing, your Highness.  Signora Rollina is a bad woman.  I have heard of some love affairs of hers.  You are deceived—­I therefore thought her not worthy of your attentions, and put off the meeting to-night at her house.”

“Signora Rollina!  How did you come to hear of her?”

“Another thing.  Duke Herrman is terribly enraged about that business in the cellar.  He is going to complain of you to the King.”

“The Duke!  Who told you about that?”

“Himself.  You are not secure yet—­but I don’t think he’ll go to the King, for I threatened him with his agreement with the baker’s daughter.  But he wants to fight you; be on yoor guard.”

“Once for all—­do you know how the Duke was informed of all this?”

“Through the Marshal’s wife.  She told all, and confessed she had acted the witch in the ghost-raising.”

The Prince took Philip by the arm.  “My good fellow,” he said, “you are no watchman.”  He turned his face towards a lamp, and started when he saw the face of this strange man.

“Are you possessed by Satan, or...Who are you?” said Julian, who had now become quite sober.

“I am Philip Stark, the gardener, son of old Gottlieb Stark, the watchman,” said Philip, quietly.

XIII.

“Lay hold on him!  That’s the man!” cried many voices, and Philip, Rose, and Julian saw themselves surrounded by six lusty servants of the police.  Rose screamed, Philip took her hand, and told her not to be alarmed.  The Prince clapped his hand on Philip’s shoulder.

“’Tis a stupid business,” he said, “and you should have escaped when I told you.  But don’t be frightened; there shall no harm befall you.”

“That’s to be seen,” said one of the captors.  “In the meantime he must come along with us.”

“Where to?” inquired Philip; “I am doing my duty.  I am watchman of this beat.”

“That’s the reason we take you.  Come.”

The Prince stepped forward.  “Let the man go, good people,” he said, and searched in all his pockets for his purse.  As he found it nowhere, he was going to whisper to Philip to give it him, but the police tore them apart, and one of them shouted:  “On!  We can’t stop to talk here.”

“The masked fellow must go with us too; he is suspicious-looking.”

“Not so,” exclaimed Philip; “you are in search of the watchman.  Here I am, if you choose to answer for taking me from my duty.  But let this gentleman go.”

“We don’t want any lessons from you in our duty,” replied the sergeant; “march! all of them!”