"Death has come near us too often of late for any one of us to fear it. When the strokes of Fate fall thick and fast, as they have fallen upon us, one grows familiar with the worst; and this is the case with Wanda. We have nothing more to lose, therefore nothing to fear. This unhappy year has blighted other hopes than yours; so many have gone to their graves mid blood and tears! You will have to bear it, if, to all the other ruins, the wreck of your happiness is added."
"You would hardly forgive me were I to rescue my happiness from the ruin of your hopes," said Waldemar, bitterly. "Well, you need not be uneasy. I have seen plainly to-day that Wanda is not to be moved."
"And you?"
"Well, I submit."
The Princess scanned his face for some seconds.
"What are you thinking of doing?" she asked suddenly.
"Nothing; you hear--I give up hope and submit to the inevitable."
His mother's eye still rested scrutinisingly upon him.
"You do _not_ submit, or I am much mistaken in my son. Is that resignation which is written on your brow? You have some plan, some mad, perilous project. Beware! Wanda's own will stands opposed to you. She will yield to no compulsion, not even from you."
"We shall see that," replied the young man, coldly--he gave up denial, finding the mask was seen through. "In any case, you may set your mind perfectly at ease. My plan may be a mad one, but if it presents any danger, that danger will be mine only--at most, my life will be at stake."