"Understand this, my lord," said the Maharajah of Haidar. "One cannot hate an enemy from the very heart unless he has been a friend. Withdraw that question; I give you the chance to withdraw. To no other man living would I allow so much."
"I must repeat my question, Maharajah."
"I'll have your life for this!"
"And afterwards? How could you possibly remain in the household? Come, deny the charge, Prince, and let me beg your pardon."
"By Azrael——"
"Don't swear at me. I give you a week to leave Her Majesty's service."
A young man, a civilian, was coming up the stairway, a big boy with blue eyes and freckles, who carried a letter in his hand. Lord Sydney turned to him as he reached the stairhead.
"Can I serve you?" asked the guardsman, courteously.
The boy drew nearer. "If you please," he said nervously, "this letter is for the Adjutant."
"A rookie?"