At last a hand was laid upon the door, and the bolt shot back with
a slight report. There followed another pause, during which
Brackenbury could see the Prince draw himself together noiselessly
as if for some unusual exertion. Then the door opened, letting in
a little more of the light of the morning; and the figure of a man
appeared upon the threshold and stood motionless. He was tall, and
carried a knife in his hand. Even in the twilight they could see
his upper teeth bare and glistening, for his mouth was open like
that of a hound about to leap. The man had evidently been over the
head in water but a minute or two before; and even while he stood
there the drops kept falling from his wet clothes and pattered on
the floor.
The next moment he crossed the threshold. There was a leap, a
stifled cry, an instantaneous struggle; and before Colonel
Geraldine could spring to his aid, the Prince held the man disarmed
and helpless, by the shoulders
"Dr. Noel," he said, "you will be so good as to re-light the lamp."
And relinquishing the charge of his prisoner to Geraldine and
Brackenbury, he crossed the room and set his back against the
chimney-piece. As soon as the lamp had kindled, the party beheld
an unaccustomed sternness on the Prince's features. It was no
longer Florizel, the careless gentleman; it was the Prince of
Bohemia, justly incensed and full of deadly purpose, who now raised
his head and addressed the captive President of the Suicide Club.
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