“In the great Cathedral yonder,” he answered.—And the Princess, thinking only of the coronation, smiled and glanced with proud faith at the Archduke.
But to the latter the real inference went home, and sharply.
“The crypt, you mean?” he muttered aside.
And Courtney nodded curtly.
“The crypt I mean,” he said. “Even Warwick and Margaret of Anjou together could not save the silly Henry.”
But the old, lean-faced Prime Minister did not deal in inferences when—having come at the Regent’s summons, from his office in the Administration wing of the same building—he was advised of the matter, and that he was to assume charge of the government during her absence.
“Has Your Royal Highness forgot the Chambers meet this day week, and that the Regent must open them in person?” he asked.
“I had forgot,” said she, “but I shall return for it.”
The Count shrugged his shoulders.
“It is not for me to question the Regent’s movements,” he said; “but if you will accept the advice of one who was your father’s friend and trusted servant, and who ventures to think he can, at least in this instance, speak with his dear, dead master’s voice, you will abandon this astonishing intention, that can profit nothing to His Highness’ cause, and will lead him only into dire and awful danger.”