“Would you have had me tell her that the Villa is within a drive of the country residence of her cousin the Princess of Dardania, and that that woman’s Court is a perfect hotbed of intrigues of all kinds?”
“I would not have had you do anything so foolish. Our old acquaintance, the Princess Ottilie, will no doubt do her best to entangle her Majesty in some of her schemes for the advancement of her husband’s dynasty; but she is not by any means the most dangerous person in the neighbourhood of Tatarjé. That bad pre-eminence is reserved for Colonel O’Malachy.”
“Oh, that old dotard!” said M. Drakovics contemptuously.
“Dotard if you like, but what is he doing where he is? You know that the air of Tatarjé seems to breed rebellion; that in my brother’s time the garrison supported the insurrection in favour of the house of Franza; and that Otto Georg had more trouble with the town and district than with all the rest of the kingdom.”
“It is all Bishop Philaret’s fault. He is stronger even than the Metropolitan in his pro-Scythian sympathies. You know they say that he threatened to get the Synod to excommunicate him for accepting a pardon from a non-Orthodox King?”
“I know. Well, that is the kind of danger the Queen would have recognised and appreciated. Anything that threatened her son’s faith or throne would have put her on her guard at once; but you would not tell her. And now, besides the Princess of Dardania, who is likely to be troublesome, but scarcely dangerous, we have the Bishop actively hostile, and Colonel O’Malachy biding his chance to reap a harvest for Scythia.”
“You remarked to me once,” cried M. Drakovics, turning savagely upon his supporter, “that in moments of crisis it was well to act, instead of wasting time in mutual recrimination. If I concealed from the Queen my true reasons for not wishing her to take the King to Tatarjé, it was because I knew that she would tell them to her mother, and that through her it would become known all over Europe that there was disaffection in Thracia. I took what seemed to me the wisest course; but no man’s wisdom can provide against a woman’s folly. I ask you now what you propose to do?”
“I propose to reach Tatarjé to-night, and resume my duties in connection with the Court.”
“To-night? but it will take us until mid-day to get back to Bellaviste, and Tatarjé is twelve hours’ journey farther on.”
“You don’t imagine that I intend to follow the Court meekly at a distance, giving them a twelve hours’ start, and to turn up the day after the fair in that way? No; I shall take the cross-country route, and so get there about midnight.”