“His royal master?  The son of the man who drove an Englishman’s wife and an Englishman’s children into exile—­poverty—­misery—­despair?” said Cleek, pulling himself up.  “I won’t take it, Mr. Narkom!  If he offers me millions, I’ll lift no hand to help or to save Mauravania’s king!”

The response to this came from an unexpected quarter.

“But to save Mauravania’s queen, monsieur?  Will you do nothing for her?” said an excited and imploring voice.  And as Cleek, startled by the interruption, switched round and glanced in the direction of the sound, the half-dosed door swung inward and a figure, muffled to the very eyes, moved over the threshold into the room.  “Have pardon, monsieur—­I could not but overhear,” went on the newcomer, turning to Narkom.  “I should scarcely be worthy of his Majesty’s confidence and favour had I remained inactive.  I simply had to come up unbidden. Had to, monsieur”—­turning to Cleek—­“and so—­” His words dropped off suddenly.  A puzzled look first expanded and then contracted his eyes, and his lips tightened curiously under the screen of his white, military moustache.  “Monsieur,” he said, presently putting into words the sense of baffling familiarity which perplexed him.  “Monsieur, you then are the great, the astonishing Cleek?  You, monsieur?  Pardon, but surely I have had the pleasure of meeting monsieur before?  No, not here, for I have never been in England until to-day; but in my own country—­in Mauravania.  Surely, monsieur, I have seen you there?”

“On the contrary,” said Cleek, speaking the simple truth.  “I have never set foot in Mauravania in all my life, sir.  And as you have overheard my words you may see that I do not intend to even now.  The difficulties of Mauravania’s king do not in the least appeal to me.”

“Ah, but Mauravania’s queen, monsieur—­Mauravania’s queen.”

“The lady interests me no more than does her royal spouse.”

“But, monsieur, she must—­she really must—­if you are honest in what you say, and your sympathies are all with the deposed and exiled ones—­the ex-queen Karma and her children.  Surely, monsieur, you who seem to know so well the history of that sad time cannot be ignorant of what has happened since to her ex-Majesty and her children?”

“I know only that Queen Karma died in France, in extreme poverty, befriended to the last by people of the very humblest birth and of not too much respectability.  What became of her son I do not know; but her daughters, the two princesses, mere infants at the time, were sent, one to England, where she subsequently died, and the other to Persia, where, I believe, she remained up to her ninth year, and then went no one seems to know where.”

“Then, monsieur, let me tell you what became of her.  The late King Alburtus discovered her whereabouts, and, to prevent any possible trouble in the future, imprisoned her in the Fort of Sulberga up to the year before his death.  Eleven months ago she became the Crown Prince Ulric’s wife.  She is now his consort.  And by saving her, monsieur, you who feel so warmly upon the subject of the rights of her family’s succession, will be saving her, helping Mauravania’s queen, and defeating those who are her enemies.”