Like other young people he had his dreams, and saw much that was unreal, but with all these there had come lasting impressions.
When the duke failed to accomplish his evil designs, he determined upon even more desperate methods in his game.
The people were beginning to chafe at the delay in the coronation, and were clamoring for a new ruler. So the cabinet met to decide this most important matter, and the duke presided over the council.
“This is a most embarrassing situation,” he said. “Ordinarily we would place the only son of our late king on the throne without question and amid great rejoicing. But we are confronted by a most perplexing question. Prince Florimel is what might be termed a freak. The point is, could he represent his kingdom with the proper dignity?”
“Prince Florimel may be a freak as you say,” remarked a member of the cabinet, “but at the same time I have never seen a handsomer, manlier young fellow. His symmetry is perfect, and he is all that is chivalrous and brave. He is the stuff true kings are made of. The only thing against him is his size.”
“That I fear is an objection which cannot be overcome,” said the wily duke. “Can we, a race of big men and women, be governed by a pygmy king—a hop-o’-my-thumb? We would be the laughing stock of other kingdoms. Think, when the rulers of all these met, and ours came among them, of the mortification we would feel that we did not have a full-grown man to represent us. His insignificance would make this country insignificant to others. Those who did not know us, and judged us by him, would look upon us as a country of dwarfs.”
“But Florimel is the late king’s son, and heir to the throne,” said another member of the cabinet. “Who else could reign in his stead?”
“I am the next of kin,” said the duke.
“Yes, if it were not for Florimel you would be the logical king.”
“Let us postpone our deliberations until tomorrow, by which time I think I can find a way out of the difficulty,” said the duke, with deadly meaning.