“Are you?” asked the Princess. “I think not. I lay my commands upon you to leave him to-night to my care and Tatiana’s, while you take a good rest. If you wish to please me (and you know that I am a very important person to please if you want to marry Nadia) you will do as I tell you.”
“How can I thank you for all your kindness?” asked Caerleon, gratefully, but she stopped him at once.
“By saying nothing about it. Good night.”
“I don’t think she is really as angry with me for wanting to marry Nadia as she seemed to be just now,” was Caerleon’s reflection as he kissed her hand, while the Princess was congratulating herself that she had at least shown him plainly that he need not contemplate marrying Nadia out of pity, nor imagine that she had no friends.
The next day opened brightly for the fugitives from Thracia. In the first place, Tatiana announced that she thought Cyril seemed a shade better. Next, Wright won a victory which filled his soul with delight. Entering his master’s dressing-room before he was up, he discovered Alessandro and an aiding and abetting boy engaged in putting out the clothes which they had procured for Caerleon to wear. In the present state of affairs, Wright looked upon this duty as his own, and after the employment of much broken English and many Italian gestures on the side of the two foreigners, and much silent contempt on his part, he ousted his rivals and remained master of the situation. Lastly, the Princess interviewed the Governor at an absurdly early hour, and found him in a most reasonable frame of mind. Truth to tell, when his Excellency heard that Princess Soudaroff wished to see him on urgent private business, his thoughts flew immediately to Captain Binks, whose tyranny, owing to his own boastful spirit, had become a joke in the town. As a man of honour, the Governor was rejoiced to welcome the opportunity of delivering this harmless and excellent foreign lady from her oppressor, and accorded her an interview at once. His amazement, when he found that she had come to inquire his opinion as to the personality of the reigning King of Thracia, and not to ask his advice as to the best way in which to get rid of the captain of her yacht, was extreme, but he was quite ready to help her. He had not a doubt that Prince Otto Georg would immediately be recognised as King by the Powers, and in that case Caerleon could probably count on being left unmolested, unless he took to devising plots against the new régime in Thracia. At any rate, if orders for his arrest should be sent from England, his Excellency would contrive that the Princess should hear of the mandate by a side wind before it could be carried out.
This was the news which the Princess imparted to Caerleon when he appeared, much ashamed of having overslept himself, at the late breakfast. The intelligence, following on his conversation with her the night before, served to raise his spirits considerably, and he went so far as to chaff her gently on the subject of the exactions of Captain Binks, of which he had heard from Wright, much to her amusement, while Nadia listened in silence, pleased at his cheerfulness, but still puzzled by it. After breakfast, nothing would satisfy him but to go out at once and despatch his telegrams to King Otto Georg and M. Drakovics. He felt himself a free man once more, but he was feverishly anxious to have the charter of his liberty signed and sealed. It was only as he enjoyed the unwonted sensation of filling in the telegraph-forms that he realised what a relief it was not to find himself waylaid during his walk to the post-office by half-a-dozen broken-hearted officials, all beseeching him, reverentially and almost with tears, not to give himself the trouble of writing out his messages with his own hand. As he left the building he made an eager mental calculation of the time which must necessarily elapse before he could receive his assurance of release from Bellaviste, and rejoiced to discover that a few hours ought to be sufficient to end his suspense. It was not only that he was desirous to escape from the trammels of etiquette—he had endured them for the past three months, and could manage to endure them again, he thought, if it would do any human being any earthly good,—but there was Nadia. He could not help knowing that she had been glad to see him again the night before; she had allowed him to hold her hand, and her beautiful eyes had been full of tears when they fell before his,—and yet, if he was King of Thracia still, she would persist in maintaining the barrier which she had erected between them. If it was his duty to go back to Thracia and take up the weary round again without the support of her companionship, he would do it, doggedly if not with a good grace; but if things had been settled otherwise without any action on his part, how gladly would he hail the release! He was fully convinced by this time that he was not suited to be a king—the position demanded mental and moral (or perhaps unmoral) qualifications of which he was not possessed, and a quiet life in England with Nadia was more than ever his ideal of happiness. He walked back to the house as though he had been treading on air, and was greeted by a friendly smile from Alessandro, who had washed his hands of Wright, but still retained a proprietary interest in Wright’s master, and took occasion to inform him that the doctor had arrived some time ago to pay his morning visit to Cyril. Almost before the courier had finished speaking, Caerleon caught sight of Nadia standing on the piazza and apparently waiting for him. He ran up the steps at once.
“I have just been telegraphing my congratulations to the new King,” he said, “and assuring him that I had far rather he was on the throne than I. I feel like a schoolboy out for a holiday.”
“Oh, hush!” said Nadia, gravely. “I have bad news for you. The doctor is here, and he says that your brother is decidedly worse.”
Caerleon gazed at her in astonishment. “But I thought he was so much better!” he cried.
“That was only a temporary improvement, attributable to the greater comfort of his surroundings,” she answered, quoting the medical pronouncement word for word. “The doctor hoped that the pain would decrease a good deal in the night; but it is worse, and he is afraid he will be obliged to perform an operation.”