With this as a prologue, he engaged himself in the ever-pleasurable task of delivering a long, congratulatory address. If there was one thing above another that the Grand Duke enjoyed, it was the making of a speech. He prided himself on his prowess as an orator and as an after-dinner speaker; but, more than either of these, he gloried in his ability to soar extemporaneously.
For ten minutes he addressed himself to the throne, benignly, comfortably. Then he condescended to devote a share of his precious store to the courtiers behind him. If he caught more than one of them yawning when he turned in their direction, he did not permit it to disturb him in the least. His eyes may have narrowed a bit, but that was all.
After five minutes of high-sounding platitudes, he again turned to the Prince. It was then that he received his first shock.
Prince Robin was sound asleep. His head was slipping side-wise along the satiny back of the big chair, and his chin was very low in the laces at his neck. The Grand Duke coughed emphatically, cleared his throat, and grew very red in the face.
The Court of Graustark was distinctly dismayed. Here was shocking state of affairs. The prince going to sleep while a grand duke talked!
"His Majesty appears to have—ahem—gone to sleep," remarked the Grand Duke tartly, interrupting himself to address the Prime Minister.
"He is very tired, your Excellency," said Count Halfont, very much distressed. "Pray consider what he has been through during the—"
"Ah, my dear Count, do not apologise for him. I quite understand. Ahem! Ahem!" Still he was very red in the face. Some one had laughed softly behind his back.