“What makes you say that, Baron?”
“My knowledge of human nature, your Highness.”
There was no denying that knowledge which had often done the state good service. So the Duke did not think it wise to protest further.
“You have suspicions?” he enquired.
“Happily, none—as yet.”
“What do you propose? To find this young man and bring him to his senses?”
“Precisely; your Highness’s forethought has anticipated my intention.” The astute old man made a point of always crediting the royal brains with any little balance that might be due to them.
“It would be well to have the affair settled,” the Duke murmured, hoping he might not be called upon to suggest a plan for the reclaiming of the Prince.
“It must be settled,” the Minister returned stooping over his papers.
The note of determination was enough to show that the furtherance of the object might well be left to the wily old brain for its best accomplishment. The Duke dismissed the subject with a yawn of relief. The discussion of family arrangements with Rollmar had usually the result of making him feel uncomfortable. The armour-plate of mere dignity is a trifle thin for the shots of intellect.