Said the Minister:
"There is a Pomeranian proverb bearing on that question. 'In the house where a strip of green hide hangs handy, the wife will never know better than her old man!'"
"Unless she happened to be the stronger of the two, bodily as well as mentally, dear Count," the Prince rejoined; "in which case the husband would be well advised to accept the inferior place. For against brute-strength and brains combined, there is no remedy but patience."
Bismarck retorted:
"Possibly—but what if the muscular brute with the brains possesses a share of patience also? There is nothing like knowing how to wait—I assure Your Royal Highness!"
The Prince looked at the great figure topped by the stolid bulldog face, and recalled something that the English Princess, his wife, had said to him that day:
"This fearful struggle will set the coping-stone upon that man's colossal labors and ambitions!"
But he was all grave, gracious cordiality as they passed from the lighter vein of talk to serious questions, though, as he took leave of the Minister at the hall-door and stepped into his waiting carriage, he said to himself mournfully:
"Alix was right. He has what he has waited and schemed for. To light this international conflagration he would have ventured down to fetch a burning brand from the nethermost Hell. And what oceans of blood will be poured out before the fire may be extinguished—none knows but God alone!"