"They are not already aware that your Imperial Majesty is here?"
"You can order them to be silent," he retorted, with angry irritation.
"Exactly, sire," said Stanief, and waited.
Adrian was nothing if not swift of thought; he drew the inference intended and conceded the point.
"Very well," he yielded. "As you will, cousin. Good night, Monsieur Allard."
He held out his hand, and quite unconsciously Allard took the little fingers in his warm clasp. Stanief, holding aside the curtain, smiled to himself; but Adrian accepted the Americanism equably and his last glance was all friendly.
It was three o'clock in the morning when Stanief reëntered the Nadeja's salon. Allard was still there, and rose expectantly to receive him.
"I waited," he explained.
"You need not have," Stanief replied, with all his usual cool serenity. "Go and rest; to-morrow the battle opens. Only—"
"Only, monseigneur?"