"No, Dalmorov. Come, Allard."
But Allard stood still.
"Sire, dare I ask where?" he said, with firm respect.
"To drive to the cathedral and observe the preparations for next week," was the dry explanation.
"Pardon me yet again; without escort?"
"Yes."
"Perhaps Monsieur Allard disapproves," suggested Dalmorov sarcastically.
"I do," Allard declared, taking a step toward Adrian and throwing back his head obstinately. "It is not fit for the Emperor to go on the streets to-night. Sire, I have talked with Captain Alisov of the guards and with Zaliski of the secret police, and it is a seething frenzy of excitement out there. This morning's attack has brought to the surface the most dangerous elements in the capital. To-morrow all may be under control, but to-night it is not fit."
"Your affectionate solicitude overwhelms me, Allard," Adrian retorted.
The irony and the allusion brought Allard's color, but he maintained his position.