“And which of them is to be detached? and what is the price?”
“I will tell you presently. It is some years now since you were in Scythia, madame, but you will remember the characteristics of her diplomacy sufficiently to be sure that in the unprecedented situation arising out of your husband’s filibustering expedition she has not forgotten her own plans for the future of Emathia. For the promotion of those plans, it is necessary that Emathia should only be released from Roum to come under the rule of a Scythian nominee.”
“Your son Kazimir,” murmured Eirene involuntarily.
The Princess frowned. “We are not concerned with personalities, madame, but with facts. Let it suffice that the person chosen must be possessed of certain qualifications to which your husband cannot pretend.”
“I know,” said Eirene wearily. “And therefore he is to retire in the other person’s favour. Why not say so at once?”
“Because that is not what is required of you. Your husband is not recognised by Europe as a candidate. Therefore his withdrawal would be the private act of a private person, and have no political significance whatever. At the same time, it might have a slightly invidious appearance for Scythia suddenly to propose the virtual independence of Emathia under a prince of her choosing.”
“I can’t imagine what you want me to do.” Eirene was wearied to impatience. “Please say what it is, and let me go back to my husband. Only”—with a sudden thought—“it is no use suggesting that Maurice should become a puppet prince under the thumb of Scythia, for nothing would ever induce him to do it.”
“Dear madame, I know your husband and his prejudices. In this little matter, you and I are going to arrange things for his good, for his life’s sake”—the emphasis was significant—“without consulting him. You will believe that it is with the keenest pleasure I tell you that we shall also gratify, though, alas! only temporarily, the ambition you have cherished so long.”
“Madame,” said Eirene, with quivering lips, “my ambition is dead, and you know it. It was for my child I cherished it, and it died with him. No political success can be more than dust and ashes to me now. It is for the sake of my husband’s life, and that alone, that I listen to you.”
The Princess shrugged her shoulders slightly. “Very well, let it pass. To my suggestion, madame. If you agree, the Scythian Ambassador at Czarigrad will definitely propose your husband as Governor-General and Prince of Emathia, under the nominal sovereignty of Roum, but with the guarantee of the Powers and owning responsibility to them. The Liberal Powers will testify surprise, but will eventually joyfully agree. If a popular election is demanded—well, we all know that these things are managed somehow—he will be the person elected. I shall have the honour of paying my respects to the Princess of Emathia in the Konak at Therma.”