The man in the jäger hat got up and paced impatiently the length of the arbor, at one moment within three yards of the terrified lovers in the foliage.
"Are we alone, your Highness?" he asked of the Archduke.
"I gave orders that no one should enter the rose garden at any time this afternoon," replied his host.
"It is well." He sent a quick glance toward the tall man who had risen. "You understand, Admiral, nicht wahr?"
A guttural sound came from the old man's throat.
"The destinies of Europe, meine Herren," he went on.
"Majestät may speak on," said the Archduke coolly, "without fear of eavesdroppers."
Renwick, crouched beneath the foliage, was incapable of motion. All his will power was used in the effort to control his breathing, and reduce his body to absolute inertness. But as the moments passed, and the men in the arbor gave no sign of suspicion he gained confidence, all his professional instincts aroused at the import of this secrecy and the magnificence of the impending revelations. He was England, waiting, alert, on guard, for the safety and peace of Europe. He did not dare to look at Marishka, for fear of the slightest motion or sound which might betray them. Only their hands clasped, though by this time neither of them was conscious of the contact.
"At Eckartsau, my brother," went on the smaller man, "you and I came to an understanding. Maximilian and Ernest are growing toward manhood. And what is that manhood to be? Habsburg blood flows in their veins as it flows in you, the Heir Presumptive, but the Family Law debars them. Not even the Este estates can pass to your children. They will become pensioners upon the bounty of those who hate their mother."
"Impossible!" whispered the Archduke tensely. "It must not be. I will find a way——"