Egon grew thoughtful once more. Clearly, here was the explanation of the summons. He was to be let off easily, it appeared; but, suspense relieved, he was not ready to be satisfied with negative blessings.
“Are you sure it isn’t a bit like telling tales out of school?” he objected.
“School-boys—with empty pockets—have been known to do that,” said the Chancellor. “But perhaps your pockets aren’t empty—eh?”
“They’re in a chronic state of emptiness,” groaned Egon.
“On the fifteenth day of October your quarterly allowance will be paid,” remarked his brother. “I would increase the instalment by the amount of five thousand gulden, if that would make it worth your while to talk—and forget nothing but your scruples.”
“Oh, you know I’m always delighted to please you!” exclaimed Egon. “It’s only natural, living the monotonous life you do when you’re not busy with the affairs of state, that you should like to hear what goes on in the world outside. Of course, I’ll gladly do my best as a raconteur.”
“My dear young man, don’t lie,” said the Chancellor. “The habit is growing on you. You lie even to yourself. By and by you’ll believe yourself, and then all hope for your soul will be over. What I want to know is; how far the Emperor has gone in his infatuation for this English girl. I’m not afraid to speak plainly to you, so you may safely—and profitably—do the same with me. In the first place I’ll put you at your ease by making a humiliating confession. The other night the woman von Lyndal tried to ‘draw me,’ as she would express it, on this subject, and I’m bitterly mortified to say she partly succeeded. She suggested an entanglement between Leopold and the girl. I replied that Leopold wasn’t the man to pull down a hornet’s nest of gossip around the ears of a young woman who had saved his life. No matter what his inclinations might be, I insisted that he would pay her no repeated visits. This thrust the fair Mechtilde parried—as if repeating a mere rumor—by saying that she believed the girl was to stay at the country house of some old friend of the Emperor. At the time, I attached little importance to her chatter, believing that she merely wished to give me a spiteful slap or two, as is her habit when she has the chance. For once, though, she has succeeded in stealing a march upon me; and she kept the secret of her plan until too late for me to have any hope of preventing Leopold from fulfilling his engagement at her house. After that was safely arranged, I don’t doubt she was overjoyed that I should guess her plot.”
“Do you think that, even if you’d known sooner, you could have stopped the Emperor from visiting at Lyndalberg?” asked Egon. “I know that you are iron; but he is steel.”
“I would have stopped him,” returned the Chancellor. “I should have made no bones about the reason; for I’ve found that the best way with Leopold is to blurt out the whole truth, and fight him—my experience against his will. If advice and warning hadn’t sufficed to restrain him from insulting the girl who is to be his wife, and injuring the reputation of the girl who never can be, I would have devised some expedient to thwart him, for his own good. I’m not a man to give up when I feel that I am right.”