“Hang it all,” answered Ponty, “I never had occasion. She's refused every one. Why does she suddenly make up her mind to accept this one? Well, I only hope it isn't because she thinks at last she has got her money's worth of titular dignity. Her Serene Highness the Princess!”
“Goodness gracious!” said Lucilla. “I don't understand you. Would you wish her to go on refusing people until she died an old maid?”
“I'll tell you one thing, anyhow—but under the rose,” said Ponty.
“Yes?” said Lucilla, with curiosity.
“I'll bet you nine and elevenpence three-farthings that I can beat you at a game of tennis.”
“Oh,” said Lucilla, dashed. But after a moment, cheerfully, “Done,” she assented. “I don't want to win your money—but anything to restore you to your normal self.” They set off for the tennis court.
IV
And then, all at once, out of the blue came that revolution which, for nine days more or less, made obscure little Altronde the centre of the world's attention.
It happened, as will be remembered, when the Grand Duke was at luncheon, entertaining the officers of his guard; and it must have been a highly amusing scene. Towards the end of the refection, Colonel Benedetti, contrary to all usage and etiquette, rose and said, “Gentlemen, I give you the Grand Duke.” Whereupon twenty gallant uniforms sprang to their feet crying, “The Grand Duke! the Grand Duke!” with hands extended towards that monarch. Only each hand held, instead of a charged bumper of champagne, a charged revolver.
Massimiliano, according to his genial daily custom, was already comfortably intoxicated, but at this he fell abruptly sober. White, with chattering teeth, “What do you mean? What do you want?” he asked.