“You are a rare gossip, truly,” said the Duke; “but you have most carefully avoided the one matter that interests me most:—what do they say of me in Dornlitz?”
Bigler shrugged his shoulders. “Why ask?” he said. “You know quite well the Capital does not love you.”
“And, therefore, no reason for me to be sensitive. Come, out with it. What do they say?”
“Very well,” said Bigler, “if you want it, here it is:—they have the notion that you are no longer the Heir Presumptive, and it seems to give them vast delight.”
The Duke nodded. “And on what is the notion based?”
“Originally, on hope, I fancy; but lately it has become accepted that the King not only has the power to displace you, but has actually signed the decree.”
“And Frederick—does he encourage the idea?”
The Count shook his head. “No, except by his open fondness for the American.”
“I’ve been urged to go to Dornlitz and kill the American,” Lotzen remarked, with a smile and a nod toward Mrs. Spencer.
“If you can kill him,” said Bigler instantly, “the advice is excellent.”