“That is a subject which I will not discuss with you. Do what I tell you, or—”
The traitor did not wait to hear anything further, but hurried off.
In half an hour he returned conducting the young Prince, who appeared thoroughly frightened.
“Do not be afraid,” said Johann kindly to the lad. “The King wishes to say something to you, that is all. You will find him very gentle, but he is unhappy. Try to soothe him.”
With these words he pushed the Prince inside, and followed Karl to the private outlet.
As soon as Ernest found himself in his cousin’s presence, he uttered a cry of astonishment.
Maximilian had employed the half-hour which had just elapsed in attiring himself in the complete trappings of his royal station. He had put on the ermine robe, thrown the collar of the Golden Fleece around his shoulders, girded on the sword of State, and grasped the golden sceptre in his hand. In this pomp he received his young kinsman.
Overawed by this extraordinary display, the Prince was about to fall on one knee before his cousin, as he had been accustomed to do on occasions of great ceremony. Maximilian checked him.
“Do not pay homage to me, Ernest,” he said sadly. “No one does that now. I shall not be King much longer. I have sent for you to tell you that. You are my heir, and when I am gone you will wear these ornaments, and sit on the throne of Franconia.”
“Oh, Cousin Max! I cannot bear it!” And the poor boy began to weep.