"I will leave the palace, at once, as you wish," he announced. "I have no alternative, of course. I recognize that. But I shall leave the Court behind, too! Neither Windsor, nor Sandringham, attract me. I begin to feel the need of—a holiday. I shall run out into the country. I have—friends in the country."
He laughed recklessly.
"This is my way of going on strike!"
An odd, dancing light, which almost suggested a suddenly awakened sense of humour, shone, for a moment, in the Duke's luminous, piercing eyes.
But he pursed up his lips doubtfully, "It is a private, incognito visit, that you are suggesting, I take it, sir?" he remarked. "In the present crisis, such a visit would involve—serious risks. But, I am bound to confess, that it would not be without—compensating advantages!" His grim smile returned. "No one would know where you were. And your departure from the palace, which must not be delayed, would attract little or no attention. If you left the Court behind you, as you propose, you would merely take one or two members of the household staff with you, I presume?"
"I shall take nobody with me. I shall go by myself," the King declared.
Yes. In this matter, at any rate, he would have his own way.
The Duke shot one of his keen, searching glances at the King. Then he swung round on his heel, and paced slowly down the whole length of the library.
The King watched him, fascinated, curious, exalted.
At the far end of the room, the Duke paused, turned, and retraced his steps.