“Yes, so long as you are well out of the way before they can send here from the castle. Give your orders now, so that you can start as soon as you have finished.”
“By the by,” said Caerleon, “what did the Princess mean by saying that you could give me particulars of the wedding?”
“Well, if you particularly want to know, I was present at the ceremony—not intentionally, as you can guess.”
“Last night? Queer that you should just have happened to drop in upon them.”
This was all that passed between them on the subject, for Cyril was resolved never to reveal the crowning deception of which he had been the victim. He could only hope that Princess Ottilie would be equally reticent.
The brothers breakfasted alone; and after the meal Cyril hurried Caerleon off to the mountains, in dire fear lest an emissary from Schloss Herzensruh should appear before he had arranged his plan of action with M. Drakovics. As soon as his brother had left the house he obtained admission to the Premier’s room, where M. Drakovics was devouring a blue-book full of statistics simultaneously with his breakfast. He looked up in some surprise as Cyril entered.
“You are early, milord.”
“Are you prepared to meet a great emergency, monsieur?”
M. Drakovics collected his thoughts, and was prepared immediately.
“You need not tell me what the emergency is, milord. The King refuses to fulfil his engagement.”