At which reply the Prince appeared much pleased, for, addressing himself to Mr. Bentinck: "'T is indeed a pious family," he remarked, "and such mutual faith can hardly go with treason. And, on my conscience, William," he went on, "the tale has an appearance." Then, to my father: "If all this be true, Sir Michael, you are much abused."
"How that, Your Highness?" asked the old man.
"By a son," said the Prince, "departing from the faith of his fathers."
"It is between him and his Maker," replied Sir Michael, with a touch of pride.
"And by me," continued His Highness, "departing from the courtesy incumbent upon princes. Does that stand in the same awful arbitrament, Sir Michael?"
"If Your Highness do me right," said my father, "'t is between us two, and shall go no further."
"That is kindly said, sir," answered the Prince. "So, if this be all true—as it must be, if you have not all the art of deceiving the most naturally in the world—I must needs fling pardon broadcast, eh?"
"I do not see what other course is open to Your Highness," said my father.
But here the Prince's face grew vastly stern: "Except to this priest," he said, "who, if he has not aimed at my life, is at least my enemy, however honorable."
"My son?" asked Sir Michael; and my heart was sore to see the pallor of his cheek.