"Natural that being still young and inexperienced in such matters, Your Majesty should mistake gratitude for love; impossible that you should let the mistake continue."
"If it were a mistake! I am keeping to my bargain, Chancellor, and talking with you man to man, for I know you won't try me too far. In such a connection it would be better not to mention the word 'mistake'. I am glad that you followed me, for I may as well say that I meant you should know my intentions within a few days. You, of course, would have known before any one."
"Intentions, Your Majesty? I fear I grow old and slow of understanding."
"For you to be slow of understanding would be a change indeed. I spoke of my intentions toward Miss de Courcy."
"You would make the lady some handsome present, as an acknowledgment 227 of your indebtedness?"
"Whether handsome or not would be largely a matter of opinion," said the Emperor, smiling for the first time. "I am making her a present of myself."
The old man had sat with his chin sunk into his short neck, peering out from under his brows in a way he had; but he lifted his head suddenly, and there was a look in his eyes like that of an animal who scents danger from an unexpected quarter.
"Your Majesty!" he exclaimed incredulously. "You are your father's son. You are Rhaetia. Your standard of honour cannot be soiled for a woman's sake."
"You misunderstand me," said Maximilian, in haste. "I speak of marriage."
The Chancellor's jaw dropped, and the warm mahogany hue of his skin paled to a sickly yellow. For a moment his lips quivered in a vain effort to formulate words, but he fought with his weakness and conquered.