V
Max was far gentler to his father than the King could have hoped. They did not meet till the next day; and for the first time in his life the King found him utterly cast down and dejected.
"Oh, do not blame yourself," he said in answer to his parent's explanations and apologies; "I do not suppose that what you have done makes any real difference. I have spent my life despising convention, occasionally defying it, and now it has overthrown me. Yes, sir, that is the true solvent of the situation; my morals have been weighed in the balance and found wanting."
"Dear me," said his father, "is that so? Well, well!" and he sighed.
"Of course, sir, I cannot expect you to be sorry about it."
"I am sorry, my dear boy—very sorry. Don't think because I have still to be King that I have not the feelings of a father. Ah, if you only knew how hard I have tried to get out of it all, you would believe what I say."
"Out of what?"
"Being King at all. Yes, Max, I have yet another confession to make; I meant to conceal it from you, but now I would rather that you knew. Perhaps you will think it wasn't quite fair; I intended to leave the responsibility of all this to you; and—well, it so happens that when you asked me I had determined to abdicate."
Max opened his eyes.
"I actually did abdicate. And then the bomb came, and that made it impossible. And so—here I still am; and that is how you got my consent!"