“Ah!” Ludovic bent forward with assumed interest in order to direct the Count’s notice from Ruperta. “I suppose not even a possible mutual dislike between the parties will avail against Rollmar’s intention there.”
The Count laughed. “No. I must give our friend the Chancellor credit for strength of purpose to brush aside such a harmless fly as that. But now he is faced by something more like a difficulty. You have not heard the latest news? No? It is scarcely likely; but I make a point of being well posted. Yes; within the last few days a change has come over the situation which may prove an awkward blow to the old schemer. King Josef has died suddenly from an accident.”
“So Prince Ludwig is King?” Ompertz observed.
With a knowing shake of the head the Count drew back his black fringed lips in a smile. “Prince Ludwig, as most of the world knows to its great amusement, has run away and hidden himself to escape the bride Rollmar has ready for him. Why, is his affair; for report speaks of her as a beauty. However, perhaps he did not consider the sugar sufficient to disguise the medicine. Well, the extraordinary part of the affair is this. Uncle Josef dies. Nephew Ludwig, the Unready, is not to be found, consequently Nephew Ferdinand, the Alert, springs up, and, seizing the opportunity, coolly seats himself upon the vacant throne.”
A long, low whistle sounded through the room. Ompertz’s lips were pursed; he was staring at Ludovic in bewildered suspicion.
Ludovic understood the whistle and the look, but he felt the soldier’s circumspection was, after the first shock, to be trusted.
“This must rather complicate the Chancellor’s matrimonial plan,” he remarked coolly to his host.
“Yes, indeed,” the Count laughed. “And I am curious to see how long it will be before we hear of a transference, by proxy, of the Princess’s affections.”
“To the reigning cousin?”
“Exactly.”