“Where is it now? Where did it go? Has it sunk, or has it gone back to where it came from?”
To these questions there could be no answer. The smooth waters glistened in the sunlight as merrily as if no threatening craft was gliding beneath the surface on some errand fraught with danger to the world.
“Perhaps they saw they were observed, and dived under for concealment,” suggested the second Empress.
Her sister sighed gently.
“I was telling you that that submarine was a type of the secret dangers which beset us. I know, beyond all doubt, that there are men in the innermost circle of the Court, men who have my son’s ear, and can do almost what they like with him, who are at heart longing for a great war, and are always working underground to bring it about. And if they succeed, and we are taken unprepared by a stronger foe, there will be a revolution which may cost my son his throne, if not his life.”
There was a brief silence. Then the Empress who had listened to this declaration murmured in a low voice:
“Heaven grant that the war is not one between you and us!”
“Heaven grant it!” was the fervent reply. And then, after a moment’s reflection, the widowed Empress added in an eager voice:
“But we—cannot we do something to avert such a fearful calamity?”
Her sister pressed her arm as though to assure her of sympathy.