“I was sure of it,” she cried, triumphantly. “And you would not help the army in their plans?”
“I do not know them.”
“They can be put in one word—assassination.”
“God forbid that I should deal with such a thing. But you must be mad to think it.”
She paused and then said slowly with significant emphasis:
“When I know not, and how I know not, but matters will come to that if the army once have the courage to act. The Queen has some strong friends, but some terrible enemies; and there is but one way to avert catastrophe.”
“How is that?”
“By securing the succession to the Princess Gatrina by the only means which can render it secure.” She fixed her eyes upon me with an intent, searching look.
“That is your scheme, you mean. How would you do it?” I had no scruple in questioning her now. I saw that some plan against Gatrina was in the making, and was ready to go to lengths now to know it.
“By securing her marriage with a man who would be accepted by the country as a king.”