‘Material of war?’ exclaimed Otto, with an excellent assumption of surprise. ‘But if my memory serves me right, we settled these accounts in January.’
‘There have been further orders,’ the Baron explained. ‘A new park of artillery has been completed; five hundred stand of arms, seven hundred baggage mules—the details are in a special memorandum.—Mr. Secretary Holtz, the memorandum, if you please.’
‘One would think, gentlemen, that we were going to war,’ said Otto.
‘We are,’ said Seraphina.
‘War!’ cried the Prince, ‘and, gentlemen, with whom? The peace of Grünewald has endured for centuries. What aggression, what insult, have we suffered?’
‘Here, your Highness,’ said Gotthold, ‘is the ultimatum. It was in the very article of signature, when your Highness so opportunely entered.’
Otto laid the paper before him; as he read, his fingers played tattoo upon the table. ‘Was it proposed,’ he inquired, ‘to send this paper forth without a knowledge of my pleasure?’
One of the non-combatants, eager to trim, volunteered an answer. ‘The Herr Doctor von Hohenstockwitz had just entered his dissent,’ he added.
‘Give me the rest of this correspondence,’ said the Prince. It was handed to him, and he read it patiently from end to end, while the councillors sat foolishly enough looking before them on the table.
The secretaries, in the background, were exchanging glances of delight; a row at the council was for them a rare and welcome feature.