Under the domination of those eyes which could quell a turbulent Reichstag, the jäger weakened, as his master had doubtless expected him to do after the first resistance.
“It may be I have made a mistake, sir,” he stammered, “though I do not think so. If you will have the kindness to walk in and wait for a few minutes until I can inquire whether his Royal Highness has come home, or will come home—”
“That is not necessary,” said the Chancellor. “His Royal Highness dines here this evening. We will go with you to the door of the dining-room, which you will open for us, and announce that two gentlemen wish to see him.”
At sight of her the Emperor stopped on the threshold
With this, all uncertainty in the mind of the jäger was swept away. He knew his duty and determined to stand by it; and the Chancellor saw that, if the master had given instructions meaning them to be over-ridden, at least the servant was sincere. He put himself in the doorway, and looked an obstacle difficult to dislodge.
“That is impossible, sir!” he exclaimed. “I have had my orders, which are that his Royal Highness is not at home to-night, and until I know whether or not these orders are to stand, nobody, not if it were the Emperor, should force his way.”
“Fool, those orders are not for us; and it is the Emperor who will go in.” With a step aside, the Chancellor let the light from the hanging lamp in the hall shine full upon Leopold’s face, hitherto masked in shadow.
His boast forgotten, the jäger uttered a cry of dismay, and with a sudden failing of the knees, he moved, and left the doorway free.