-a tall, straight, old man with the bearing of a soldier and the
head of a lion. His keen, gray eyes were upon the king, and sorrow
was written upon his face. He was Ludwig von der Tann, chancellor of
the kingdom of Lutha.

At last the king stopped his pacing and faced the old man, though he
could not meet those eagle eyes squarely, try as he would. It was
his inability to do so, possibly, that added to his anger. Weak
himself, he feared this strong man and envied him his strength,
which, in a weak nature, is but a step from hatred. There evidently
had been a long pause in their conversation, yet the king's next
words took up the thread of their argument where it had broken.

"You speak as though I had no right to do it," he snapped. "One
might think that you were the king from the manner with which you
upbraid and reproach me. I tell you, Prince von der Tann, that I
shall stand it no longer."

The king approached the desk and pounded heavily upon its polished
surface with his fist. The physical act of violence imparted to him
a certain substitute for the moral courage which he lacked.

"I will tell you, sir, that I am king. It was not necessary that I
consult you or any other man before pardoning Prince Peter and his
associates. I have investigated the matter thoroughly and I am
convinced that they have been taught a sufficient lesson and that
hereafter they will be my most loyal subjects."

He hesitated. "Their presence here," he added, "may prove an
antidote to the ambitions of others who lately have taken it upon
themselves to rule Lutha for me."

There was no mistaking the king's meaning, but Prince Ludwig did not
show by any change of expression that the shot had struck him in a
vulnerable spot; nor, upon the other hand, did he ignore the
insinuation. There was only sorrow in his voice when he replied.

"Sire," he said, "for some time I have been aware of the activity of
those who would like to see Peter of Blentz returned to favor with
your majesty. I have warned you, only to see that my motives were
always misconstrued. There is a greater power at work, your majesty,
than any of us--greater than Lutha itself. One that will stop at
nothing in order to gain its ends. It cares naught for Peter of
Blentz, naught for me, naught for you. It cares only for Lutha. For
strategic purposes it must have Lutha. It will trample you under
foot to gain its end, and then it will cast Peter of Blentz aside.
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