“The Prince will not attend the council,” replied Seraphina, with a momentary blush.—“The despatches, Herr Cancellarius? There is one for Gerolstein?”
A secretary brought a paper.
“Here, madam,” said Greisengesang. “Shall I read it?”
“We are all familiar with its terms,” replied Gondremark. “Your Highness approves?”
“Unhesitatingly,” said Seraphina.
“It may then be held as read,” concluded the Baron. “Will your Highness sign?”
The Princess did so; Gondremark, Eisenthal, and one of the non-combatants followed suit; and the paper was then passed across the table to the librarian. He proceeded leisurely to read.
“We have no time to spare, Herr Doctor,” cried the Baron brutally. “If you do not choose to sign on the authority of your sovereign, pass it on. Or you may leave the table,” he added, his temper ripping out.
“I decline your invitation, Herr von Gondremark; and my sovereign, as I continue to observe with regret, is still absent from the board,” replied the Doctor calmly; and he resumed the perusal of the paper, the rest chafing and exchanging glances. “Madam and gentlemen,” he said at last, “what I hold in my hand is simply a declaration of war.”
“Simply,” said Seraphina, flashing defiance.