"What can have come to the man?" exclaimed the Czar in amazement.
He had but now been investing him with virtues such as had never been possessed save by that one man, and here this very man suffers himself to indulge in so coarse and violent an outbreak as would not be ventured upon before a petty prince, let alone a Russian Czar.
Was there some witchcraft in Zeneida's gaze that could madden the soberest men, until, flinging down the seals of office at the feet of their sovereign, they should say:
"What is your country to me? What care I for you and your gods?"
The eyes of the Czar strove to read the secret from Zeneida's face.
The artiste would have withdrawn.
"Stay!"
"If your Majesty commands, I will stay altogether and not leave St. Petersburg."
"Do you know what ails this man?"
"I do."