“Quite possible! So possible, that the Royal yacht is ordered to be in readiness at three o’clock. Their Majesties and suite will dine on board, in order to enjoy the return sail by moonlight.”
The Professor’s countenance was a study. Anxiety and vexation struggled with the shrewd kindness and humour of his natural expression, and his suppressed feelings found vent in a smothered exclamation, which sounded very much like the worst of blasphemous oaths used in dire extremity by the soldiers of the Fatherland.
“What ails you?” demanded De Launay; “You seem strangely upset for a man of cool nerve!”
“Upset? Who—what can upset me? Nothing! Roger, if I did not respect you so much, I should call you an ass!”
Sir Roger laughed.
“Call me an ass, by all means,” he said, “if it will relieve your feelings;—but in justice to me, let me know why you do so! What is my offence? I give you a piece of commonplace information concerning the movements of the Court this afternoon, and you jump off your seat as if an adder had bitten you. Why?”
“I have the gout,” said Von Glauben curtly.
“Oh!” And again Sir Roger laughed. “That last must have been a sharp twinge!”
“It was—it was! Believe me, my excellent Roger, it was exceedingly severe!” His brow smoothed, and he smiled. “See here, my dear friend!—you know, do you not, that boys will be boys, and men will be men?”
“Both are recognised platitudes,” replied Sir Roger, his eyes still twinkling merrily; “And both are frequently quoted to cover our various follies!”