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This cast a somewhat fresh light on the thing, and annoyed me.

“Then you must get some one else to keep the appointment, Prince Kalkov,” I answered.

“But your promise,” he cried, angry and embarrassed.

“My promise was to play the part of the Emperor in the matter, and I’ll either be obeyed as Emperor or we’ll call it off, and I’ll remain plain Harper C. Denver. You can choose, right now.”

He sat gnawing his moustache in perplexity, and wanted to expostulate and argue the point.

“But——”

“There are no buts in this. You can call it off or on—but on my terms. You can choose.”

This was just what he did not wish to do, however.

“Your own safety——” he began again.

“You can leave that to me,” I cut in. “Is it to be on or off?” And I looked him fair and square in the eyes.

He gave a deep-drawn sigh, twisted his moustache ends, made as if to expostulate, but stopped on meeting my looks, and then with a shrug of the shoulders gave way.

“It’s an enormous responsibility, but if you insist I must yield.”