“Are we right in allowing him to do so?”
“Allowing him! Who is to forbid him?”
“Is he safe, do you think?”
“Safer, it would seem, my friend, than when laying a foundation-stone, with ourselves and all his suite around him!” responded the Professor. “Besides, it is too late now to count the possible risks of the adventure he has entered upon. He knows the position, and estimates the cost at its correct value. He has made himself the ruler of his own destiny; we are only his servants. Personally, I have no fear,—save of one fatality.”
“And that?”
“Is what kills many strong men off in their middle-age,” said Von Glauben; “A disease for which there is no possible cure at that special time of life,—Love! The love of boys is like a taste for green gooseberries,—it soon passes, leaving a disordered stomach and a general disrelish for acid fruit ever afterwards;—the love of the man-about-town between the twenties and thirties is the love of self;—but the love of a Man, after the Self-and-Clothes Period has passed, is the love of the full-grown human creature clamouring for its mate,—its mate in Soul even more than in Body. There is no gainsaying it—no checking it—no pacifying it; it is a most disastrous business, provocative of all manner of evils,—and to a king who has always been accustomed to have his own way, it means Victory or Death!”
Sir Roger gazed at him perplexedly,—his tone was so solemn and full of earnest meaning.
“You, for example,” continued the Professor dictatorially, fixing his keen piercing eyes full upon him; “You are a curious subject,—a very curious subject! You live on a Dream; it is a good life—an excellent life! It has the advantage, your Dream, of never becoming a reality,—therefore you will always love,—and while you always love, you will always keep young. Your lot is an exceedingly enviable one, my friend! You need not frown,—I am old enough—and let us hope wise enough—to guess your secret—to admire it from a purely philosophic point of view—and to respect it!”
Sir Roger held his peace.
“But,” continued the Professor, “His Majesty is not the manner of man who would consent to subsist, like you, on an idle phantasy. If he loves—he must possess; it is the regal way!”