“Hinckeldeym, as you know, I have few friends here. I wonder whether you are one?”
The flabby-faced old Minister pursed his lips, and glanced at her quickly, for he was a wily man. Then, after a moment’s pause, he said,—
“I think that ever since your Imperial Highness came here as Crown Princess I have been your partisan. Indeed, I thought I had the honour of reckoning myself among your Highness’s friends.”
“Yes, yes,” she exclaimed quickly. “But I have so many enemies here,” and she glanced quickly around, “that it is really difficult for me to distinguish my friends.”
“Enemies!” echoed the tactful Minister in surprise. “What causes your Highness to suspect such a thing?”
“I do not suspect—I know,” was her firm answer as she stood aside with him. “I have learnt what these people are doing. Why? Tell me, Hinckeldeym—why is this struggling crowd plotting against me?”
He looked at her for a moment in silence. He was surprised that she knew the truth.
“Because, your Imperial Highness—because they fear you. They know too well what will probably occur when you are Queen.”
“Yes,” she said in a hard, determined voice. “When I am Queen I will sweep clear this Augean stable. There will be a change, depend upon it. This Court shall be an upright and honourable one, and not, as it now is, a replica of that of King Charles the Second of England. They hate me, Hinckeldeym—they hate me because I am a Hapsbourg; because I try and live uprightly and love my child, and when I am Queen I will show them that even a Court may be conducted with gaiety coupled with decorum.”
The Minister—who, though unknown to her, was, perhaps, her worst enemy, mainly through fear of the future—listened to all she said in discreet silence. It was a pity, he thought, that the conspiracy had been betrayed to her, for although posing as her friend he would have been the first to exult over her downfall. It would place him in a position of safety.