“Simply because Thracia has been induced to part with territory under a misapprehension.”
“Ah, my price!” cried Princess Ottilie. “You see I am acquainted with your little plans, Lord Cyril, and I have out-plotted you. You are angry to-night, but to-morrow you will see that you have deserved it. You have done all you could to make me believe that your brother was deeply in love with me, when the whole time I knew from his own lips that it was all he could do to endure the sight of me. It was I who arranged with the Prince that you were to be brought here to-night. I was determined to have my revenge on you, to show you that there were others who could lay plots as well as yourself. Don’t talk about misapprehensions. Your brother the King will be the first to tell you that he has aided me throughout in this conspiracy of mine until to-day.”
“That my brother was foolish enough to allow himself to be persuaded to join you in playing a practical joke, in very doubtful taste, on your father, will make no difference to the Thracians,” retorted Cyril. “They will demand back the territory out of which they have been cozened, and the great Powers will be drawn into the war.”
“I hope the consequences will not be so serious as you seem to expect,” said Prince Alexis, breaking into the war of words. “I enjoy some little influence at the Scythian Court, and I can promise you that it shall be exerted on behalf of the independence of Thracia, and in favour of your brother, to whom I shall always be grateful for the part he has played during the last few days. And now, Lord Cyril, we must not detain you longer, or King Carlino will be anxious about you. Stefan here will take you to a room where there is refreshment prepared, and after that you will find a fresh horse and an escort of six of my guard to conduct you back to Thracia. I owe you many thanks for the assistance you have given me to-night.”
“And remember,” added Princess Ottilie, as Cyril bowed, “that though I can’t quite forgive King Carlino for the way in which he has treated me, I am sorry I teased him so much. But I am not sorry that I hoaxed you to-night.”
Thus dismissed, Cyril had no option but to take his leave of the royal couple, and commit himself to the charge of Stefan, who brought him to a buffet, where he made a hasty meal. He was conscious that it would have been more in keeping with his tragic utterances to quit the palace at once, refusing either to eat or drink within its walls, and denouncing vengeance against its perjured mistress; but the night was very cold, he was tired, and there was a long ride before him. And after all, it could not be denied that the Princess had played her part wonderfully well; there was no disgrace in having been deceived by her. But it was inexcusable to have been taken in by Caerleon, clumsy and unwilling actor as he was; and the only point Cyril could allege in his own favour was that he might be pardoned for not suspecting such an unprecedented event as his brother’s lending himself to support a course of deception. The thought comforted him to some extent, however, and as he mounted the horse prepared for him he felt more at peace with himself. The ride home occupied a much shorter space of time than the former one had done, and Cyril laughed angrily to himself as he remembered the amount of trouble he had wasted in giving a riding-lesson to the best rider in Mœsia. The thought recalled to him his grudge against Caerleon, and when he had dismissed his Dardanian escort a little way from the hunting-lodge, he made up his mind to punish his brother by giving him one more night’s suspense. He was bound to hear in the morning of what had happened; but it would only be a richly deserved punishment for him not to be relieved from his anxiety sooner. Accordingly, Cyril went straight to bed as soon as he entered the house, although he heard the voices of Caerleon and M. Drakovics still engaged in earnest discourse in the dining-room.
Half an hour later footsteps paused outside his door, and Caerleon’s voice said, “Asleep, old man?” to which he replied only by a sleepy grunt.
“I’m glad I didn’t let the fellow come in and bemoan himself to me,” he reflected, as the footsteps passed on. “I should have had to tell him the whole thing in self-defence.”
Cyril slept late the next morning, and when he awoke he heard Caerleon tramping moodily up and down outside his window, speaking a cheerless word now and again to the dogs. He rose and dressed slowly, turning over in his mind the various methods which occurred to him of utilising this defeat of his as a stepping-stone to further victories. Presently the sound of another voice in the garden arrested his attention, and looking out, he saw one of the King of Mœsia’s gorgeously attired jägers giving Caerleon a parcel, which he said he had been commanded by the Queen to place in his own hands. As soon as the man was gone, Caerleon, in some surprise, opened the packet, and Cyril saw that it contained the case of rubies which he himself had carried to Schloss Herzensruh the night before. Lying above the jewels was a paper, which Caerleon unfolded, and read the contents.
“Oh, joy! she’s off!” he cried, infinite relief in his tones. “I’m rid of her at last.”