Paul was standing in the open door-way with his back turned toward them--alone.

The palace had never looked so vast as it did at that moment--brilliantly lighted, gorgeous, empty.
Through the hail of blows on the stout doors, the rattle of stones at the windows, the prince could hear yells of execration and the wild laughter that is bred of destruction.

He turned and entered the room.
His face was gray and terrible.
"They have no chance," he said, "of effecting an entrance by force; the lower windows are barred.

They have no ladders, Steinmetz and I have seen to that.

We have been expecting this for some days." He turned toward Steinmetz as if seeking confirmation.