“My dear Cyril,” said Mrs Sadleir, severely, “I was not born yesterday. Your poor dear father called and gave me such a scolding last year for tempting Caerleon to throw his life away in Thracia that I vowed I would never speak to either of you on the subject again, and I haven’t mentioned it to Caerleon. I merely wish to know whether you think there is any possibility that M. Drakovics’s scheme may be carried out after all?”
“Well, I don’t know,” said Cyril, reflectively. “Caerleon is in rather an ugly temper just now, for him, and I shouldn’t much wonder if he did anything foolish. The Governor is gone, you see, and it was only his expressed wish that kept him at home before.”
“Yes, I see,” returned Mrs Sadleir. “And what do you think of the matter, Cyril? On which side would your influence be thrown?”
“Well,” said Cyril, “it seems to me that it wouldn’t be bad fun to try the thing. I’m not up to larks much generally, but there’s a good deal that’s new in this one. I wouldn’t go in for it myself on any account, but I shouldn’t so much mind seeing Caerleon through. It would certainly be a new sensation, one of the few still possible for most ordinary mortals in this worn-out old world, to find oneself a king’s brother—a royalty, in fact. One hears of a few fellows who have been made kings in the Cannibal Islands, or Central Africa; but it’s not often that one gets the chance of a properly organised European kingdom. It’s not half a bad idea.”
“Then I am to understand,” said Mrs Sadleir, “that in case M. Drakovics should under any circumstances renew his offer of the crown (mind, I don’t in the least say he will, for his patriotic feelings were very much wounded by Caerleon’s refusal), your valuable advice and assistance would be cast on the side of the angels—that is, of the luckless Thracians?”
“Well,” said Cyril again, “I think the angels would get it that time. I should never think of letting Caerleon go into a job of the kind by himself; but really and truly I don’t believe he would come to such awful smash if I was there to back him up. I should make it my business to play him off against Drakovics. It isn’t healthy for that old man to get his own way to the extent he does. I am morally certain that he would very soon begin to presume if he had only Caerleon to deal with.”
“M. Drakovics ought to be very much obliged to you. I almost think it is my duty to warn him of your intentions. You know that I correspond with him occasionally? But really, Cyril, I scarcely think that it would be possible for you and Caerleon to reign together in the affectionate way you suggest, like the two kings of Barataria.”
“Or the Heavenly Twins,” said Cyril. “No, of course I mean the Siamese Twins. I’m afraid the kingdom would hardly support the double honour. No, Mrs Sadleir, my ambition is a much higher one. I mean to be the power behind the throne.”
“But that is M. Drakovics’s destined place,” objected Mrs Sadleir.
“Then I shall be the man behind Drakovics,” said Cyril, calmly.