She had to decide quickly.  She decided to assume the role of peacemaker.

“M. de Chauxville was on the point of going,” she said.  “Let him go.”

“M. de Chauxville is not going until I have finished with him, madame.  This may be the last time we meet.  I hope it is.”

De Chauxville looked uneasy.  His was a ready wit, and fear was the only feeling that paralyzed it.  Etta looked at him.  Was his wit going to desert him now when he most needed it?  He had ridden boldly into the lion’s den.  Such a proceeding requires a certain courage, but a higher form of intrepidity is required to face the lion standing before the exit.

De Chauxville looked at Steinmetz with shifty eyes.  He was very like the mask of the lynx in the smoking-room, even to the self-conscious, deprecatory smile on the countenance of the forest sneak.

“Keep your temper,” he said; “do not let us quarrel in the presence of a lady.”

“No; we will keep the quarrel till afterward.”

Steinmetz turned to Etta.

“Princess,” he said, “will you now, in my presence, forbid this man to come to this or any other house of yours?  Will you forbid him to address himself either by speech or letter to you again?”

“You know I cannot do that,” replied Etta.

“Why not?”

Etta made no answer.

“Because,” replied De Chauxville for her, “the princess is too wise to make an enemy of me.  In that respect she is wiser than you.  She knows that I could send you and your prince to Siberia.”

Steinmetz laughed.

“Nonsense!” he said.  “Princess,” he went on, “if you think that the fact of De Chauxville numbering among his friends a few obscure police spies gives him the right to persecute you, you are mistaken.  Our friend is very clever, but he can do no harm with the little that he knows of the Charity League.”

Etta remained silent.  The silence made Steinmetz frown.

“Princess,” he said gravely, “you were indignant just now because I made so bold as to put the most natural construction upon the circumstances in which I found you.  It was a prearranged meeting between De Chauxville and yourself.  If the meeting was not the outcome of an intrigue such as I mentioned, nor the result of this man’s hold over you on account of the Charity League, what was it?  I beg of you to answer.”

Etta made no reply.  Instead, she raised her eyes and looked at De Chauxville.

“Without going into affairs which do not concern you,” said the Frenchman, answering for her, “I think you will recognize that the secret of the Charity League was quite sufficient excuse for me to request a few minutes alone with the princess.”

Of this Steinmetz took no notice.  He was standing in front of Etta, between De Chauxville and the door.  His broad, deeply lined face was flushed with the excitement of the moment.  His great mournful eyes, yellow and drawn with much reading and the hardships of a rigorous climate, were fixed anxiously on her face.