'I know what you would say, Duecker,' said Charles with a severe countenance. 'But I will give you a useful lesson. You must not speak ill of any one when you are speaking with your king.'
Making an effort to suppress his feelings, and followed by the scornful smile of the eldest prince, Duecker retired,--whilst the other, a youth of about Arwed's age, amused himself with examining the new comer with a far from becoming hauteur.
The king, following the glance of his nephew, perceived Arwed and advanced towards him.
'Who?' asked he with some embarrassment.
'Gyllenstierna,' answered Arwed with a profound inclination: 'a Swedish nobleman, who begs of your majesty that be may be permitted to fight under your banners.'
'Count Gyllenstierna?' inquired Charles, leaning on his giant sword, 'The father is a determined opponent of my administration!' said he to his brother-in-law, as Arwed bowed affirmatively, and a convulsive smile distorted the lips of his well-formed mouth.
'Yet full of devotion for his king and his native land!' earnestly interposed Arwed. 'If your majesty will but permit his son to prove it.'
The king gave him a complacent look. 'I am now about to take the battery called the Golden Lion from the Danes,' said he: 'you can remain by my side.'
'Heaven reward your majesty!' cried Arwed in ecstasies, and seized the hand of the hero to kiss it.
'I like not that,' said the king, hastily withdrawing his hand,--and at that moment adjutant general Siquier, a slender Frenchman, with a cunning but wasted face, entered the room.