“Yes; just that.”
“To a certain extent you are right, Mr. Bergwyn,” he answered slowly. “I had better tell you something. Since I saw you, a formal demand has been made to the King to abdicate, backed by the statement ‘that a refusal would be followed by the declaration of the army against him.’ At first he refused; but afterwards withdrew the peremptory refusal and asked for time to consider the matter. A week was conceded and there the matter was left.”
“Then nothing will be done for a week?”
“Nothing would have been done; but His Majesty or the Government, most probably the Queen, has broken faith. Of those who waited upon him—there were five—three have been arrested and thrown into prison. Naturally the army is embittered.”
“What will be done?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “For whatever happens now, the blame will lie with the Court.”
“I suppose that’s about as hopeless news as you could give me.”
“It is not good,” he replied, very gravely.
“You are still in a position to keep the condition of no violence.”
“We have decided to release you from your undertaking so that we may not even appear to be guilty of bad faith. The decision has just been made; and I should have written you at once or seen you, to return you this paper;” and he put my letter back into my hands.