The scorn in her tone first stung, then moved him to wonder.
“You do not love the King, Marie!” he exclaimed.
“Love him! Nicholas, it is better that there should be now a clear understanding of things between us. I am a Countess of Reist, and I have been slighted by an adventurer—a man who but for you would even now have been living in poverty in a foreign land. I would not marry him though he begged me with tears in his eyes, to save his throne, to save his life.”
He walked restlessly up and down. His own pride had been wounded bitterly. Marie was right.
“I am willing,” she continued, “to endure this affront if it seems to you that your duty to Theos still bids you hold by the King! But there is one thing to which I will not submit. I will not bow the knee to this American girl if he should make her Queen. Nor in that case will I suffer you, Nicholas, to remain the King’s counsellor.”
“Nor will I!” he answered.
“Promise me one thing more, my brother!” she begged. “If again we should hear that cry ringing through the squares, promise me that you will not fail them. We have had enough of strangers in Theos. It is those who have lived here all their lives, to whom every stone of the place is dear, who should control her destinies.”
“I am the faithful servant of Ughtred of Tyrnaus,” he answered, slowly, “while he serves the State wisely and well. But if that should come to pass which we have spoken of, the evil must fall upon his own head. Listen!”
There was some commotion without. A servant threw open the door.