"King Gustaf Adolf has only a daughter," he said finally, with a peculiar look.
"Princess Christina ... Yes."
"But the kingdom at war with half the world, after his death, needs a man upon the throne."
"Bertila, what do you mean?"
"I mean that in my childhood I heard King Erik's son, in spite of his peasant wife, Karin, declared the successor to the crown."
"Are you in your senses?"
Again an ironical smile played around the old man's lips.
"Do you not understand," he coldly said, "how it is possible to hate soldiers and aristocrats, and yet send one's son to war as the nearest road to distinction, under a king's eyes?"
"I beg of you, Bertila, put aside such wild fancies; you are a reasonable man when the demon of pride does not get possession of your restless mind. Your plan will fail; it must fail."
"It cannot fail."