The Chancellor rose, slowly and painfully, with a reminiscence of the gout, and Maximilian regarded him in surprise, "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Only that since I can do no further good, I shall, with your permission, get out at this station, and go back to Salzbrück."
The Emperor realized, what he had not noticed until this moment, that the train was slowing down, as it passed into the suburbs of a town. He and the Chancellor had talked together for a full hour, and he was far from regretting the prospect of being left to himself. More than once he had come perilously near to losing his temper, forgetting his gratitude and the old man's years. How much longer he could have held out, under a continued strain of provocation, he did not know; and he spoke no word of dissuasion, as Count von Markstein picked up his hat and buttoned the well-known gray overcoat for departure.
"I have passed pleasanter hours in your society, I admit," said 247 Maximilian, when the train stopped. "But I thank you for your motives, if not your maxims; and here's my hand."
The Chancellor bowed low, until only the shining top of his bald head was visible, as he accepted the token of amnesty.
"If Your Majesty would grant me yet one more favour in this connection, I should be grateful," he declared. "I find myself fatigued by the anxieties of the past few days, and I shall rest for some hours at my house in Salzbrück. Will you communicate with me by telephone when you have reached Wandeck, saying whether you remain there; whether you return at once; or whether you go farther?"
"I will do that willingly," said Maximilian. Again he pressed the Chancellor's hand, which was very cold, as the hands of old persons sometimes are; and five minutes later he was journeying on, alone.