‘I want you to tell me something – ’ he said quietly as if he suddenly made up his mind to question her.

But before he could say more, the door of the sitting room was flung open abruptly.

Both Mistral and the Prince turned their heads, then Mistral gave an explanation of astonishment. Sir Robert stood there, looking peculiarly tall, stern and avenging, his eye ablaze with anger.

‘So this is where you have been brought!’ he said.

He slammed the door behind him and advanced into the room. As he did so, Mistral stood up. With one glance Sir Robert seemed to take in her torn dress and loosened hair.

His lips tightened ominously and he advanced quickly and purposefully towards the Prince. As he reached him, he put up his hand and slashed him across the face with the pair of gloves he carried.

‘You are a cad!’ he said harshly.

Mistral gave a little cry.

‘But, Sir Robert,’ she said. ‘Please – ’

‘One minute,’ Sir Robert replied. ‘I have not yet finished telling this so-called gentleman what I think of him.’

‘Do you think I would hear any more from you?’ the Prince asked furiously. ‘I will have satisfaction, sir, here and now. No man can insult me with impunity.’

‘Nor can I allow you to insult an English lady and my countrywoman,’ Sir Robert answered. ‘The choice of weapons is yours.’

If Sir Robert was angry, his emotion was equalled and surpassed by the Prince’s rage. He could hardly keep his temper within control and his face was white save where the mark of Sir Robert’s gloves burned crimson. He gave a quick glance round. Over the mantelpiece were two duelling swords, the épeés de combat much favoured by the French.

In a matter of seconds the Prince had taken them down and handed one to Sir Robert.

‘I can kill you with this as well as with anything else,’ the Prince said through his teeth.

‘On the contrary,’ Sir Robert replied. ‘It is you who will receive a lesson at my hands, young man, and one which will be richly deserved.’

Mistral looked from one to the other in utter bewilderment. She was not certain what all this was about, but from Sir Robert’s remark, about his countrywoman she felt that it concerned herself, though why and for what reason she could not guess.

‘Your Serene Highness! Sir Robert!’ she began. ‘Please – ’

But they paid no attention to her. The Prince thrust a chair to one side, kicked a footstool out of the way. The centre of the room was empty and the two men took up their positions.

Almost before Mistral could realise what was happening their swords had met, there was the clink of steel against steel, and they were fighting in desperate, grim-faced silence which was far more frightening than if they had shouted abuse at one another.