"But if, under Stenovics's influence, the King does refuse to see you?" she asked—"Refuses to see you, and repeats his orders?"
The Prince's face grew very grave, but his voice was firm.
"Not even the King—not even my father—can bid me throw away the inheritance which is mine. The hand would be the King's, but the voice the voice of Stenovics. I shouldn't obey; they'd have to come to Volseni and take me."
Sophy's eyes kindled. "Yes, that's right!" she said. "And for to-day?"
"Nothing will happen to-day—unless, by chance, the thing which we now know may happen any day; and of that we shouldn't hear till evening. And there's no drill even. I sent the men to their homes on forty-eight hours' furlough yesterday morning." His face relaxed in a smile. "I think to-day we can have a holiday, Sophy."
She clapped her hands in glee. "Oh, Monseigneur, a holiday!"
"It may be the last for a long time," he said; "so we must enjoy it."
This day—this holiday which might be the last—passed in a fine carelessness and a rich joy in living. The cloudless sky and the glittering waters of Lake Talti were parties to their pleasure, whether as they rode far along the shore, or sat and ate a simple meal on the rock-strewn margin. Hopes and fears, dangers and stern resolves, were forgotten; even of the happier issues which the future promised, or dangled before their eyes, there was little thought or speech. The blood of youth flowed briskly, the heart of youth rose high. The grave Prince joked, jested, and paid his court; Sophy's eyes gleamed with the fun as not even the most exalted and perilous adventure could make them sparkle.
"Oh, it's good," she cried—"good to live and see the sun! Monseigneur, I believe I'm a pagan—a sun-worshipper! When he's good enough to warm me through, and to make the water glitter for me, and shadows dance in such a cunning pattern on the hills, then I think I've done something that he likes, and that he's pleased with me!" She sprang to her feet and stretched out her hands towards the sun. "In the grave, I believe, I shall remember the glorious light; my memory of that could surely never die!"
His was the holiday mood, too. He fell in with her extravagance, meeting it with banter.