“Excuse me, sir, but I do not understand you.”
“What I mean is this, that the King comes of a morbid stock. Up to the present he has been kept free from any great cause of agitation, and he has shown no sign of the hereditary curse of his family; but let there be too great a strain put upon him, let him receive one or two more shocks like last night, and I tremble for the effect upon his brain.”
Johann drew himself up, and an incredulous smile came upon his lips.
“So that is it!” he cried scornfully. “As long as a king wastes his substance and the hard-earned taxes of his subjects in any sort of frivolous pleasure and riot, he is perfectly sound and sane; but the moment he begins to take an interest in the people, the moment he begins to make any practical attempt to better their lot, then, in your opinion, he is going mad! Thank you for speaking so plainly. At last we understand each other. You had better go and tell your fears to some one who will be more ready to believe in them—the Chancellor, for instance. As far as I am concerned, I think that the King has at last become sane, after being mad all his life.”
And with this reply, the Socialist turned his back, and strode away with a fierce air.
While Bernal, deeply dejected, was still standing, as though in doubt what course to pursue, he was accosted by Karl, who had come towards him from the palace.
“What is it? Does the King want me?”
“No, sir; at least I have not been sent by his Majesty. The Princess Hermengarde commanded me to say that she hopes to have the pleasure of seeing you in her Royal Highness’s apartments after dinner.”
Bernal felt a slight shiver.
“Tell the Princess that I am much honoured by her invitation, and I shall be there.”