She sprang to her feet. “O!” she cried, “have you come from Mittwalden?”
“This morning,” he returned, “I left it; and if there is anyone less likely to return to it than yourself, behold him!”
“The Baron——” she began, and paused.
“Madam,” he answered, “it was well meant, and you are quite a Judith; but after the hours that have elapsed you will probably be relieved to hear that he is fairly well. I took his news this morning ere I left. Doing fairly well, they said, but suffering acutely. Hey?—acutely. They could hear his groans in the next room.”
“And the Prince,” she asked, “is anything known of him?”
“It is reported,” replied Sir John, with the same pleasurable deliberation, “that upon that point your Highness is the best authority.”
“Sir John,” she said eagerly, “you were generous enough to speak about your carriage. Will you, I beseech you, will you take me to the Felsenburg? I have business there of an extreme importance.”
“I can refuse you nothing,” replied the old gentleman, gravely and seriously enough. “Whatever, madam, it is in my power to do for you, that shall be done with pleasure. As soon as my chaise shall overtake us, it is yours to carry you where you will. But,” added he, reverting to his former manner, “I observe you ask me nothing of the Palace.”
“I do not care,” she said. “I thought I saw it burning.”
“Prodigious!” said the Baronet. “You thought? And can the loss of forty toilettes leave you cold? Well, madam, I admire your fortitude. And the state, too? As I left, the government was sitting,—the new government, of which at least two members must be known to you by name: Sabra, who had, I believe, the benefit of being formed in your employment—a footman,—am I right?—and our old friend the Chancellor, in something of a subaltern position. But in these convulsions the last shall be first, and the first last.”