I'm sure it's Miss Spencer's voice.' Racksole boldly pushed the french window a little wider open, and put his ear to the aperture, through which came a beam of yellow light.
'Take my place,' he whispered to the Prince, 'they're talking German.
You'll understand better.' Silently they exchanged places under the window, and the Prince listened intently.
'Then you refuse ?' Miss Spencer's visitor was saying.
There was no answer from Miss Spencer.
'Not even a thousand francs?
I tell you I've lost the whole twenty-five thousand.' Again no answer.
'Then I'll tell the whole story,' the lady went on, in an angry rush of words.

'I did what I promised to do.

I enticed him here, and you've got him safe in your vile cellar, poor little man, and you won't give me a paltry thousand francs.' 'You have already had your price.' The words were Miss Spencer's.

They fell cold and calm on the night air.
'I want another thousand.' 'I haven't it.' 'Then we'll see.' Prince Aribert heard a rustle of flying skirts; then another movement--a door banged, and the beam of light through the aperture of the window suddenly disappeared.

He pushed the window wide open.