"You have not only given him every opportunity to gain renown, but often have I admired your magnanimity when he has conspicuously paraded his ill-will."
"I thank you for that avowal, Eugene; for well I know how unwillingly you blame the elector. And he deserves your friendship, for he loves you sincerely. He has a noble heart, although I have not been able to win it; he is a fearless hero, and a great military chieftain. It is a pity that we were contemporaries. Were I to die to-day, no man would be louder in my praise than he; but I live, and he cannot brook a rival."
"Nay, your highness, he is not so presuming as to suppose that he is worthy to supplant you."
"He is about to supplant me, Eugene. I forgive him; for he is young, ambitious, and conscious of his own genius, which, while I enjoy the chief command, is hampered by a subordinate position. He is just as capable as myself; but I do not feel that he is my superior, and therefore it pains me to be obliged to resign my command to him."
"You do not think of such a thing! What would be the effect of your retirement upon the troops?"
"They would cry out, as the Frenchmen do, 'Le roi est mort, vive le roi!' I am not self-deceived as to the ephemeral nature of military popularity. It is always directed toward an object present and tangible, and speedily consoles itself for the loss of one idol by replacing it with another. But now, listen to me. A courier has just arrived from Vienna. The president of the war department declares himself unable to put any more troops in the field; he has neither money nor munition more. The emperor writes under his own hand that he has several times called upon the Elector of Bavaria to join his command, and place himself at the head of his Bavarians."
"And he has refused!" cried Eugene.
"No. He has accepted, but conditionally only. Can you guess his conditions?"
Eugene turned pale and stammered: "Your highness, I cannot—I hope that I do not—"
"Well, I see that you have guessed. He demands the chief command of the entire army."