“But,” continued the Chancellor, “I have a better way. I have faith, for one thing, in your blood. The son of Maria Menrad must be—his mother’s son. And the Crown Prince is attached to you. Not for your sake, but for his, I am inclined to be lenient. What I shall demand for that leniency is that no word of love again pass between you and the Princess Hedwig.”
“It would be easier to go away.”
“Aye, of course. But ‘easier’ is not your word nor mine.” But Nikky’s misery touched him. He rose and placed a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It is not as simple as that. I know, boy. But you are young, and these things grow less with time. You need not see her. She will be forbidden to visit Otto or to go to the riding-school. You see, I know about the riding-school! And, in a short time now, the marriage will solve many difficulties.”
Nikky closed his eyes. It was getting to be a habit, just as some people crack their knuckles.
“We need our friends about us,” the Chancellor continued. “The Carnival is coming,—always a dangerous time for us. The King grows weaker day by day. A crisis is impending for all of us, and we need you.”
Nikky rose, steady enough now, but white to the lips.
“I give my word, sir,” he said. “I shall say no word of—of how I feel to Hedwig. Not again. She knows and I think,” he added proudly, “that she knows I shall not change. That I shall always—”
“Exactly!” said the Chancellor. It was the very, pitch of the King’s dry old voice. “Of course she knows, being a woman. And now, good-night.”
But long after Nikky had gone he sat in the darkness. He felt old and tired and a hypocrite. The boy would not forget, as he himself had not forgotten. His hand, thrust into his pocket, rested on the faded daguerreotype there.
Peter Niburg was shot at dawn the next morning. He went, a coward, to his death, held between two guards and crying piteously. But he died a brave man. Not once in the long hours of his interrogation had he betrayed the name of the Countess Loschek.