“The King was angry.”
“He was angrier when I handed him back his patent, and told him that I did not care to be the last-made noble of a dynasty.”
“It was outrageous, I was shocked to hear you; and for one so young, I was struck with the dignity with which he heard you.”
“I don't think he understood me; he was impassive because he did not know he was wounded. But why do I talk of these things? They have no longer the faintest interest for me. Except yourself, there is not a man in the cause I care for.”
“This is a mere passing depression, my dear Maitland. All things seem sad-colored to you now. Wait till tomorrow, or wait till there be a moment of danger, and you will be yourself again.”
“As for that,” said Maitland, bitterly, “I am terribly myself just now. The last eight or ten years of my life were the dream; now is the awakenment. But cheer up, my old friend. I will stand by you, though I care very little for the cause you fight for. I will still serve on the Staff, and play out my part to the fall of the curtain.”
“What a strange scene that council was this morning!” said Caffarelli, half wishing to draw him from the personal theme.
“What a strange thing to call a council, where not merely men walked in and out unbidden, but where a chance traveller could sit down amongst the King's advisers, and give his opinion like a servant of the crown! Do you even know his name?”
“I'm not sure that I do; but it sounded like Tchernicheff. He distinguished himself against the Turks on the Danube.”
“And because he routed some ill-disciplined hordes with others a mere shade more civilized, he comes here to impose his opinion on our councils, and tell us how we are to defend ourselves!”