ermed common, I am considered a
rich man. My personal property, aside from my estates, is five times the
amount of the loan. A mere bagatelle, if I may use that pleasantry."

"Impossible, impossible!" cried the king, starting to his feet, while
a line of worry ran across his forehead. He strode about impatiently
slapping his boots with the riding stick. "It is impossible."

"Why do you say impossible, Sire?"

"I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds,"
forgetting for the moment that he was powerless.

"Aha!" the diplomat cried briskly. "There is, then, beneath your
weariness and philosophy, a fear?"

"A fear?" With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead.
"Why should there be fear?"

"Why indeed, when our cousin Josef--" He stopped and looked toward the
mountains.

"Well?" abruptly.

"I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his Highness
to gather in all these pretty slips of parchment given under the hand of
Leopold."

"Small matter if he should. I should pay him." The king sat down. "And
it is news to me that Josef can get together five millions."

"He has friends, rich and powerful friends."

"No matter, I should pay him."

"Are you quite sure?"

"What do you mean?"

"The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there be
five millions in your treasury ten years hence?"

"The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned," proudly, "nor its
resources."

"But in ten years, with the ministers you have?" The Englishman shrugged
doubtfully. "Why have you not formed a new cabinet of younger men?
Why have you retained those of your predecessor, who are your natural
enemies? You have tried and failed."

The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew that
all this was but a preamble to something of deeper significance. He
anticipated what was forming in the other's mind, but he wished to
avoid a verbal declaration. O, he knew that there was a net of intrigue
enmeshing him, but it was so very fine that he could not pick up the
smallest thread whereby to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt the
shame of the knowledge that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward the
precipice, would rather fall dreaming than waken and struggle futilely.

"My friend," he said, finally, sighing, "proceed. I am all attention."

"I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, but you
suspect, what I am about to disc