“An impertinent fool! And he said—?”
“That the Lady Gertrude—”
“I’ll wager it was something more insolent than that! Yes, had been—”
“Had been cut out by the ‘Poacher’s Child.’”
“It is disgraceful. The fellow ought to be turned out of the palace.”
And he drummed his fingers impatiently on the table before him.
The Chancellor had passed a very uneasy time since his parting with the King the previous day. He had hardly had time to cool down after his interview with the revolutionist when he received a report from the Minister of the Interior, representing the state of things in Mannhausen in an alarming light, and soliciting authority for the adoption of special measures of repression. His reply had been to wire to his colleague to come to Neustadt, and he was now impatiently expecting his arrival.
Herr Moritz, the Minister referred to, was a comparatively young man, a protégé of his own, on whose devotion to himself he placed the greatest reliance, while he felt that his plebeian origin was a guarantee against his ever becoming a dangerous rival for power. The entrance of the young Minister at this moment brought an expression of relief to his patron’s countenance. The Chancellor quickly sent away his secretary, and drawing a chair close beside that on which he had made his colleague sit down, he poured into his ear a full account of the events of the past two days.
Thoroughly acquainted with the Chancellor’s character and views, it did not take Herr Moritz long to grasp how things stood in the Castle. The Count was still expatiating on the evil influence over the King wielded by Johann when a summons arrived for the Chancellor to wait upon his Majesty.
“Come with me, Moritz,” said the Count, “and see if you cannot do something to open the young fool’s eyes.”