The Princess sat leaning her head on her hand.
"He takes care that I shall not forget it; he shows me every day of my life what the last four years have done for him. I never should have believed that he could have worked his way up with such wonderful energy from the rough semi-savage condition of his younger days. He has learned to control himself, and therefore he can control others in spite of enmity and opposition. Already I find it more difficult to get my orders obeyed when he sets his will against them, and yet the people are as devoted to me as ever. He awes them with his indomitable spirit, with his tone of command. They fear his eye more than they have ever feared me. I wish Nordeck had left me the boy. I would have brought him up for our cause. He would have been worth much to us, I think--not merely as master of Wilicza. As it is, he belongs altogether to his father's people, and he will maintain his place in the enemy's ranks, though the highest offers should be made to him by our side. I know him well enough to be sure of that. It has been a misfortune that I could never be a real mother to him. We have both to pay the penalty for it now."
There was something almost of self-accusation, of sorrowful regret, in her words. The tone was quite a new one in the Princess's mouth when referring to her elder son. Those tenderer impulses, which at rare intervals would gain the mastery over her, had hitherto invariably been stirred within her by love for her youngest-born alone, and even now she put the passing weakness from her with a strong hand. Rising abruptly, as though to end the discussion, she said in a stern voice--
"No matter, we are enemies, and enemies we shall remain. That must be borne, like so much else."
They were here interrupted. A servant came in with the announcement that the house-steward of Wilicza had just arrived, and begged to be allowed to speak to his mistress. The Princess looked up.
"Pawlick? Then something must have happened. Send him in at once."
Hardly a minute had elapsed when Pawlick entered. He had been Prince Baratowski's servant, had accompanied the family into exile, and now filled the office of major-domo at the Castle. The old man seemed excited and in haste; yet he omitted none of those marks of respect with which he was wont to approach his liege lady.
"That will do, that will do," said the Princess, impatiently. "What brings you here? What has happened at Wilicza?"
"Nothing at Wilicza itself," reported Pawlick; "but at the border-station on the frontier ..."
"Well?"