"It must be an agreeable feeling," he said, politely, to the Professor, "to be in a certain measure under the protection of the whole civilized world. In the majority of cases the private life of our great men of learning passes away uneventfully, but our people delight in occupying themselves with the course of life of those who have departed. If happy accident brings a person into contact with gentlemen of your standing, he must take care that he does not suffer for all eternity under the hands of later biographers. I confess," he continued, laughing, "that a fear on this point has robbed me of many interesting acquaintances."
The Professor answered, quietly:
"The people are conscious that they have by the labor of scholars first been raised from misery; but with greater experience in political life, their interest in the promoters of our present culture will assume more moderate proportions."
"I have told the Sovereign that you have found something here," remarked the Princess, across the table.
"There has been a remarkable discovery made in an ancient sepulchre," interrupted the High Steward; and he gave a diffuse account of a funeral urn.
But now the Sovereign himself turned to the Scholar.
"Surely you may hope to find the rest?"
"Unfortunately, I do not know where to search further," replied the Professor.
"What you have found, then," continued the Sovereign, with self-control, "is unimportant."
It did not please the Professor that the conversation should again turn upon the manuscript; he felt annoyed at having to talk about his Romans.