The King frowned fiercely at the interrupter. “Their Highnesses have nothing whatever to do with it,” he said angrily. “I make my own friends without asking their leave.”
“Sir,” said Prince Mirkovics, “allow me to say that Captain Roburoff is nevertheless in the right. I must be able to invite the Princess Ludmilla, at any rate, to grace the entertainment by her presence. Would a party of pleasure to visit some object of interest meet your Majesty’s wishes?”
“Anything, anything!” said the King sulkily. “Arrange it as you like, Prince; only be sure to let me know in time, so that I may make no other engagement. And see here, you must look after Princess Lida. I am not going to dangle after her all day, instead of talking to the beautiful Mortimer.”
“I will do my best to arrange everything to your Majesty’s taste,” said Prince Mirkovics as he retired. Once out of the King’s presence, a feeling of sick disgust came over the old man as he thought of the part he had played.
“That wretched boy the son of Queen Ernestine!” he muttered. “It is as well she cannot see him. And I to be plotting to give him Carlino’s daughter! But that is the very thing. She has spirit and strength of mind sufficient to save him in spite of himself. And if not—if he ventured to slight her, to ill-treat her”—Prince Mirkovics’s hand clenched itself involuntarily—“we would tear him from the throne, and seat her there alone. I would kill him with my own hands; but it would be worth a year or two of misery for her to have her reigning in Thracia.”
After due consultation with his hotel-keeper and with the director of the baths, Prince Mirkovics sent out that evening the invitations for his picnic, and resigned himself to wait four whole days before he could do anything more. During this period, however, King Michael contrived to steal a march upon him. Cyril, to whom in righteous indignation Mansfield had borne the news of the King’s extraordinary behaviour, thought it well to make a point of accompanying Princess Soudaroff and Philippa in their morning and evening promenades, and on these occasions his party invariably encountered that of the King. The first time this happened, King Michael, who had not chosen to receive Cyril when the latter called at his hotel the day before, stopped and spoke to him with marked graciousness. The next time, becoming aware, apparently, that the ex-Premier was not alone, he desired him to present his relations, and addressed to each of them a few affable words, delivered with a blasé and venerable air which sat oddly upon his youthful countenance. This gave him the opportunity of seeing Philippa in a new character, for the spectacle of the sallow, weary-eyed boy, who had treated him with so much ingratitude, patronising her beloved uncle, was almost too much for her, and her blue eyes sparkled with the indignation which her close-pressed lips succeeded in restraining. Cyril was not blind to the feelings of either side, but his only comment on what he saw was to tease Philippa afterwards about her manners, which he declared to lack the repose that ought to mark the caste of Vere de Vere.
On the evening before Prince Mirkovics’s picnic Cyril and Mansfield betook themselves to Princess Soudaroff’s rooms to join her dinner-party, instead of dining as usual in the open air. The only other visitor present was her brother-in-law, the great Scythian diplomatist, and it was for his benefit that this formal indoor dinner had been arranged, in order that the keen eyes of Ludwigsbad might not observe his conference with Cyril. As soon as the meal was over Usk gave his arm to the Princess, Mansfield, who had received his orders beforehand, followed, nothing loth, with Philippa, and the two statesmen were left to themselves, Cyril bringing his chair to Prince Soudaroff’s end of the table, and waiting for him to begin to speak. A curious visitor might have observed that when either man glanced away the eyes of the other ran searchingly over him, as though to discover some joint in his armour, but that when the two pairs of eyes met, an impenetrable veil seemed to be let down to hide the soul behind each. Prince Soudaroff raised a glass of wine critically to the light as he said—
“What are your terms, Count?”
“You desire an accommodation, then?”
Prince Soudaroff shrugged his shoulders. “What would you have? You have hedged us in so completely that we must capitulate or starve. I suppose it is understood that if we withdraw our opposition at Czarigrad you get us the loan we want on easy terms?”