“He will not send. But if he should, what of it? I am known to be somewhat eccentric—particularly so in my love of hard work, fresh air and exercise—besides, he has not commanded my attendance. He will not, therefore, be surprised at my absence. I tell you, Roger,—I must go! Who would have expected the King to take it into his head to visit The Islands without a moment’s warning! What a freak!”
“And here comes the reason of the freak, if I am not very much mistaken,” said De Launay, lowering his voice as an approaching figure flung its lengthy shadow on the path,—“Prince Humphry!”
Von Glauben hastily drew back, De Launay also, to allow the Prince to pass. He was walking slowly, and reading as he came. Looking up from his book he saw, them, and as they saluted him profoundly, bade them good-day.
“You are up betimes, Professor,” he said lightly; “I suppose your scientific wisdom teaches you the advantage of the morning air.”
“Truly, Sir, it is more healthful than that of the evening,” answered Von Glauben in somewhat doleful accents.—“For example, a sail across the sea with the morning breeze, is better than the same sort of excursion in the glamour of the moon!”
Prince Humphry looked steadfastly at him, and evidently read something of a warning, or a suggestion, in his face, for he coloured slightly and bit his lip.
“Do you agree with that theory, Sir Roger,” he said, turning to De Launay.
“I have not tested it, Sir,” replied the equerry, “But I imagine that whatever Professor von Glauben asserts must be true!”
The young man glanced quickly from one to the other, and then with a careless air turned over the pages of the book he held.
“In the earlier ages of the world,” he said,—“men and women, I think, must have been happier than they are now, if this book may be believed. I find here written down—What is it, Professor? You have something to say?”