"He is only young," sighed Ludwig.
The king emptied the drawer, put the contents in his pack, tied the strings, and put it under his arm.
"What are you going to do?" asked the uncle, vaguely perturbed.
"I am going down to the soldiers. I am no longer a vintner, I am a king!" And he said this in a manner truly royal.
"Gott!" burst from the prince regent. "This boy has marrow in his bones, after all!"
"As you will find, dear uncle, the day after the coronation. You will, of course, go down to them with me?"
"As I am your uncle! But the incarceration will not be long," Ludwig grumbled. "There are ten thousand troops on the other side of the passes, and they have been there ever since I learned that you had gone a-wooing."
"Ten thousand? Well, they shall stay there," said the king determinedly. "I shall not begin my reign with war. I am in the wrong; I had no business to be here. Technically I have broken the treaty, though not in spirit."
"What will you do?"
"Tell the duke the truth. He will not dare go far."