“Let what you have to say be said openly,” remarked Pahlen.
“The matter is for the Czar’s ear only,” retorted Baranoff, with an air of dignity. “It is for his Majesty to disclose it afterwards if he pleases. I trust your Majesty will grant me this favour, the last perhaps that I may ask.”
There was in Baranoff’s manner something that convinced the Czar that he had an important matter to communicate, that were better heard secretly, too.
“We will humour you,” said Alexander, who proceeded to make good his word by calling upon the rest of the Ministry to retire to the ante-chamber.
“What tale hath that knave to tell?” muttered Pahlen. “His subtle tongue will be our undoing. He’ll keep his place, and we shall see a continuance of the war.”
In which forecast the chancellor was destined to prove a true prophet.
“Now, Count,” said Alexander, as soon as the door had closed, “we are alone. What is it you would say?”
“The matter is one that concerns your honour, Sire. Hence my reason for this secrecy.”
“Be brief.”
“It is with pain and regret, your Majesty, that I bring an accusation against one of the Imperial house.”