“Her advice, and mine also, went farther, madame, but the Prince declines to style himself Imperial Highness—far less Emperor—until his claims are recognised. He has taken the present step almost entirely with the view of preventing embarrassment to the Prince of Dardania.”
“Surely it will rather cause him embarrassment?” began Zoe hesitatingly, and Wylie broke in.
“Have you made sure of your ground, Professor? An ambiguous position is awkward enough, but the Prince of Dardania may not relish finding himself committed to support the Theophanis claims, and it would be more awkward if he repudiated his invitation.”
The Professor scarcely vouchsafed him a glance. “Madame,” he said to Zoe, “your brother’s friends have not been idle in anticipation of his arrival. The Prince of Dardania is already committed in private to our cause, which will assure him, if it succeeds, the possession of Illyria. In this his brother-in-law, the King of Magnagrecia, is equally interested, so that we have already attached one of the great Powers to our side. It is to the three Liberal Powers, England, Neustria, and Magnagrecia, that we look for support in our effort to rescue Emathia from the Roumi yoke, and in bringing forward as our proposed High Commissioner—for we go no further as yet—a man not only chosen by the Emathian leaders themselves, but distinguished by European approval, we offer them a means of intervention such as they have never yet enjoyed.”
“Oh, Professor Panagiotis has thought it all out!” laughed Armitage. “Wylie, you and I must take a back seat. You are aide-de-camp, I suppose—or equerry, which is it?—and I am—what am I? Oh, lord-in-waiting, of course.”
“You are both Maurice’s good friends, who have come to help him, not to be his servants,” said Zoe quickly.
“Pardon me, Princess,” said Wylie, very distinctly. “We are your brother’s servants. We have come here for nothing but to put ourselves under his orders—to help him to his rights if we can, but not to claim any share in his confidence.”
He fell behind with Armitage, perhaps not caring to face the blankness of Zoe’s look as she accepted mechanically the Professor’s assistance across the rough stones of the jetty. The younger man seemed hardly satisfied, and Wylie answered his unspoken question.
“Must show at once that we see how the land lies. I know these fellows’ jealousy of any influence but their own. If they are not to bring Teffany’s future to smash by working against us, we must be content to remain in the background. I suppose he’s not much better fitted to cope with them than he used to be—not a full-blown statesman yet, or even a diplomat?”
“Thank goodness, no! Absolutely straight, good man of business, steady as Old Time, happiest when he’s playing the country squire. But the Princess—she’s a diplomatist, or anything you like. You’ll understand what an imperial bearing means when you see her, if you don’t now.”