"I am afraid poor Robin is in jeopardy," said his wife, ruefully. "The Bogieman is after him."
"Does the incomprehensible creature imagine—" began the Count loudly, and then found it necessary to pull his collar away from his throat as if to save himself from immediate strangulation.
"Mr. Blithers is not blessed with an imagination, Count," said she. "He doesn't imagine anything."
"If he should presume to insult our Prince by—" grated the old soldier, very red in the face and erect—"if he should presume to—" Words failed him and an instant later he was laughing, but somewhat uncertainly, with his amused host and hostess.
Mr. Blithers reached home in high spirits. His wife was asleep, but he awoke her without ceremony.
"I say, Lou, wake up. Got some news for you. We'll have a prince in the family before you can say Jack Robinson."
She sat up in bed, blinking with dismay. "In heaven's name, Will, what have you been doing? What—have you been—"
"Cutting bait," said he jovially. "In a day or two I'll throw the hook in, and you'll see what I land. He's as good as caught right now, but we'll let him nibble a while before we jerk. And say, he's a corker, Lou. Finest young fellow I've seen in many a day. He—"
"You don't mean to say that you—you actually said anything to him about—about—Oh, my God, Will, don't tell me that you were crazy enough to—" cried the poor woman, almost in tears.
"Now cool down, cool down," he broke in soothingly. "I'm no fool, Lou. Trust me to do the fine work in a case like this. Sow the right kind of seeds and you'll get results every time. I merely dropped a few hints, that's all,—and in the right direction, believe me. Count Equinox will do the rest. I'll bet my head we'll have this prince running after Maud so—"