The bells began to chime midnight, as they reached the Embassy.
“Don’t wait for me,” Armand said; “I may be late. Go back and send an orderly.”
The other smiled. “I’ll wait, myself, sir, if you will permit; they have a game here I rather like.”
“Take care, Colonel; those boys will skin you out of your very uniform—better look on.”
“I do, sir, when I’ve a poor draw;” he answered seriously, and wondered at the Archduke’s chuckling laugh.
Courtney greeted his friend with a nod and a wave of his hand.
“I’m glad you came in,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you—sit down.... Scotch?”
“No, rye—and seltzer, please.” He took the chair across the desk from Courtney and waited until the man had placed the decanters and glasses and retired. “And I’ve been thinking about you, too,” he said. “You got me into this infernal mess, and now it’s up to you to help me out.”
Courtney slowly lit a cigarette and scrutinized the coal, critically.
“I see,” he remarked, “that you have already developed the ungratefulness of kings—I have high hopes for your reign ... if you live to reign.”