The truth seemed very near to him now, but the master-diplomat before
him was used to extracting himself from awkward corners.

"Pullets with a southern exposure," he drawled, "have yellow legs and
ripen quickest."

The Prince was nonplussed. He had no answer.

The girl behind the bar spoke.

"You do talk silly, you two!" she said.

It was enough. Trivial as the remark was, it was the last straw. The
Prince brought his fist down with a crash on the counter.

"Yes," he shouted, "you are right. We do talk silly; but we shall do so
no longer. I am tired of this verbal fencing. A plain answer to a plain
question. Did you or did you not send your troops to give me the bird
to-night?"

"My dear Prince!"

The Grand Duke raised his eyebrows.

"Did you or did you not?"

"The wise man," said the Russian, still determined on evasion, "never
takes sides, unless they are sides of bacon."