He blew out dense volumes of smoke, puffing furiously at his pipe for several minutes.  There seemed to be many things which he had it in his mind to say to me.  But, as though suddenly altering his purpose, he stood on one side.

“You shall go your own way,” he said grimly.  “The Lord only knows where it will take you.”

It took me in the first place to the Duke, to whom I recounted briefly what had happened.  I could see that my story at once made a deep impression upon him.  When I had finished he sat for several minutes deep in thought.  For the first time since I had known him he seemed nervous and ill at ease.  He was unusually pale, and there were deep lines engraven about his mouth.  One hand was resting upon the table, and I fancied that his fingers were shaking.

“The Prince of Malors,” he said at last, and his voice lacked altogether its usual ring of cool assurance, “is of Royal blood.  He is not even in touch with the political powers of France to-day.  He may have been guilty of a moment’s idle curiosity—­”

“Your Grace must forgive me,” I interrupted, “but you are overlooking facts.  The fall over the cliff was premeditated, the sprained foot was a sham, the whole affair was clearly planned in order that he might be left alone in my room.  Besides, there is the bribe.”

The Duke folded his hands nervously together.  He looked away from me into the fire.

“It is a very difficult position,” he declared, “very difficult indeed.  The Prince has been more than a friend to Blenavon.  He has been his benefactor.  Of course he will deny this thing with contempt.  Let me think it out, Ducaine.”

“By all means, your Grace,” I answered, a little nettled at his undecided air.  “So far as I am concerned, my duty in the matter ends here.  I have, told you the exact truth concerning it, and it seems to me by no means improbable that the Prince has been in some way responsible for those former leakages.”

The Duke shook his head slowly.

“It is impossible,” he said.

“Your Grace is the best judge,” I answered.

“The Prince was not in the house last night when the safe was opened, he objected.

“He probably has accomplices,” I answered.  “Besides, how do we know that he was not here?”

“Even if he were,” the Duke said, raising his head, “how could he have known the cipher?”

I made no answer at all.  It seemed useless to argue with a man who had evidently made up his mind not to be convinced.

“Have you mentioned this matter to any one?” the Duke asked.

“To Colonel Ray only, your Grace,” I answered.

“Ray!” The Duke was silent for a moment.  He was looking steadily into the fire.  “You told Ray what you have told me?”

“In substance, yes, your Grace.  In detail, perhaps not so fully.”

“And he?”

“He did not doubt my story, your Grace,” I said quietly.