said recklessly. "But a murdered Englishman is not by any means easy to explain away."
A long tense silence followed. He broke it by asking abruptly, seeking to catch me unawares:
"What's this I hear about your love for the Princess Christina?"
"How on earth can I know what your spies or my enemies tell you?" I replied, not for a moment off my guard.
"Do you dream of making her your wife?"
"Hasn't she promised to marry the Duke Sergius?"
"Is it true that you love her?"
"If it were you are scarcely the man to whom I should bring such a confidence."
"What's your object here in Sofia?"
"To be allowed to mind my own business."
"What is that business, as you call it?"
"My own concern," I retorted as sharply as I could rap out the words. It was as clear as daylight that I had touched him with my threat, or he would never continue to question me. I was winning.
"What does your Government want?" he asked, after a pause to recover from his chagrin at my former replies.
"How should I know—except to have their subjects left unmolested?" I was determined to rub this in, and I could see he relished this last rub no better than the first.
"If you refuse to answer my questions you leave me but one alternative," he threatened.
"Take it," I answered lightly. "You take it, of course, with your eyes open."
"You have been engaged in a conspiracy against the Russian influence?"
