Nikky rose, steady enough now, but white to the lips.

"I give my word, sir," he said. "I shall say no word of--of how I feel
to Hedwig. Not again. She knows and I think," he added proudly, "that
she knows I shall not change. That I shall always--"

"Exactly!" said the Chancellor. It was the very, pitch of the King's dry
old voice. "Of course she knows, being a woman. And now, good-night."

But long after Nikky had gone he sat in the darkness. He felt old and
tired and a hypocrite. The boy would not forget, as he himself had
not forgotten. His hand, thrust into his pocket, rested on the faded
daguerreotype there.

Peter Niburg was shot at dawn the next morning. He went, a coward, to
his death, held between two guards and crying piteously. But he died
a brave man. Not once in the long hours of his interrogation had he
betrayed the name of the Countess Loschek.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE BIRTHDAY

The Crown Prince Ferdinand William Otto of Livonia was having a
birthday. Now, a birthday for a Crown Prince of Livonia is not a matter
of a cake with candles on it; and having his ears pulled, once for each
year and an extra one to grow on. Nor of a holiday from lessons, and
a picnic in spring woods. Nor of a party, with children frolicking and
scratching the best furniture.

In the first place, he was wakened at dawn and taken to early service
in the chapel, a solemn function, with the Court assembled and slightly
sleepy. The Crown Prince, who was trying to look his additional dignity
of years, sat and stood as erect as possible, and yawned only once.

After breakfast he was visited by the chaplain who had his religious
instruction in hand, and interrogated. He did not make more than about
sixty per cent in this, however, and the chaplain departed looking
slightly discouraged.

Lessons followed, and in each case the tutor reminded him that, having
now reached his tenth birthday, he should be doing better than in
the past. Especially the French tutor, who had just heard a rumor of
Hedwig's marriage.

At eleven o'clock came word that the King was too ill to have him to
luncheon, but that he would see him for a few moments that afternoon.
Prince Ferdinand William Otto, who was diagramming the sentence,
"Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves in America," and doing it wrong,
looked up in dismay.

"I'd like to know what's the use of having a birthday," he declared
rebelliously.

The substitution of luncheon with the Arch