"And even if old Frederick were to become so infatuated with you that
he would restore you to Hugo's place in the Line of Succession, do you
imagine, that the House of Nobles would hesitate to annul it the
instant he died?"
From the written words, one might well infer that he spoke loudly and
in open anger; whereas, in fact, his face was smiling and his voice was
even more soft than usual. It behooved me to meet him in kind.
"As you seem to have been doing my thinking, cousin, perhaps you have
also thought out my answers. If you have, I shall be glad to hear
them; it will save me the labor of thinking them out for myself."
His smile broadened. "The only labor I can promise to save you,
cousin, is that of being King."
"I fear it is a bit early for me to choose my Prime Minister," I said.
His smile became a laugh. "Let us pass to my second question. It,
however, demands no thinking. There is ample evidence of your
intention as to the Princess."
"Then, why ask it?" I inquired.
"Because, of her intention toward you, I am not so sure--but, women are
queer creatures and prone to take queer crotchets. You aim to marry
her; and so, having won the King and stolen my birth-right, to use her
popularity to secure you on the Throne. You see, all roads lead to the
Throne."
"All roads which His Highness of Lotzen travels," I observed.
He tilted back the chair; then let it drop sharply forward to the floor.
"Just so, cousin, just so," he said.
"And one of those roads passes by your Chateau?" I asked.
For an instant, he seemed to suspect my true meaning, and I regretted
the word. Then the suspicion faded and he accepted them at their face
value.
"Morals have nothing to do with a King," he laughed; "nor with the
subject under consideration."
"Apropos of the latter," said I, "I suppose I am very stupid, but I
don't quite understand why, if you feel so about the Princess, you
offered to aid me in getting rid of Mrs. Spencer."
"Pure selfishness, cousin. I have taken a liking to the Lady, myself."
"Then, at least, I may thank you for your selfishness," I sneered.
He smiled; then turned and looked at the clock on the mantel behind him.
"Come, Armand," he said, "I must be going. Will you condescend to
answer?"