“And so you think that I have influence with your little King?” she demanded abruptly.
Count Piper was surprised into irritation.
“Madame, it is a Viking!” he exclaimed with pride.
Madame von Falkenberg lifted her slender shoulders.
“He seems like a child to me,” she answered, “and if,” she added, “you think so well of him, why do you come to bargain about him with a woman whom you think is a greedy adventuress?”
Count Piper looked at the lady with dislike; her attitude was one with which it was impossible to deal; for all her directness she was hindering him in the object of his conversation; vexation rose in his heart against boys and women and this kind of bed-chamber intrigue; he longed for such a master again as the late King had been.
“Sweden is threatened,” he replied, with some sternness, “and to save her I must use any weapons I can.”
“Even soiled ones,” said the Baroness.
“I have not said so—but I am dealing with a youth, one who has no interest beyond his games and his sports—one who is self-confident, arrogant——”
The lady interrupted.