“Stretch out your hand with the sceptre, my god of darkness, command, and I shall obey!” said Victoria, gliding down on the sofa, crossing her arms on her breast, and looking up to Thugut with languishing eyes.
He sat down by her side, and laid his hand over her eyes.
“Do not look at me so charmingly as to make my blood rush like fire through my veins,” he said. “Let us first speak of business affairs, and then we will forget every thing in draughts of fiery sherbet. So listen to me, Victoria, be a little less of the enchanting angel now, and a little more of the malicious demon.”
“Is there a minister to overthrow, a powerful man to be trampled under foot?” asked Victoria, her black eyes flashing like dagger-points. “Have we got an enemy whom we want to lead across the PONTE DEI SOSPIRI to an eternal prison? Speak quickly, my friend; I am waiting for the music of your words.”
“There are two enemies for you to fathom,” said Thugut, slowly.
“To fathom! Is that all? A little spying, nothing further?”
“But some bloodshed might attend that spying.”
“I like blood, it has such a beautiful purple color,” said Victoria, laughing. “Who are the two enemies I am to fathom?”
“France and Prussia!”
“Oh, you are joking.”