"Another mouthful."
"And a hundred and fifty thousand belonging to the Confederation."
"The Confederation will have no time to arm them; only we must not lose a moment, sire; therefore I now say 'War, Victory, the supremacy of Prussia—myself—or-'"
"Or?"
"Or my resignation, which I lay very humbly at Your Majesty's feet."
"What is that on your hand, count?"
"Nothing, sire."
"It looks like blood."
"Perhaps it is."
"Is it true, then, that some one attempted your life by firing at you with a revolver?"