“It is the way in which a patriotic king looks at the subject, milord. I am making no effort to disguise from you the drawbacks of the great position I offer you. We do not want a pleasure-seeker, but one who will be a martyr, if need be. We require a man who will give up his country, his friends, his own happiness--who will be ready either to live or to die for this Thracia of ours, which we have saved from Scythia and the Franzas.” M. Drakovics saw that his words had at last produced something of the effect he desired. Usk’s head was lifted proudly, and the light of battle shone in his eyes, but his response was disappointing. “I will consider the question,” he said. “Give me your promise, milord. Why should you hesitate? You are not thinking of palaces and the probable length of your Civil List, I know, so why not let me feel happy in the certainty that my country’s future is assured?” “I must consult my father. He has a right to be told.” “Come back to Thracia with me, and be crowned, and then tell him. He will be glad to be spared the trouble of advising you.” “No, it would not be fair to him. I will let you know some time to-morrow. Good night,” and he left the room before M. Drakovics could stop him or even say anything further. His impulse was to get out of the house at once, and cool his heated brain by walking back to his lodgings, but he did not like to leave without bidding farewell to Mrs Sadleir. Entering the drawing-room in search of her, he was accosted by a man whom he knew slightly as connected in some way with the ‘Daily Chronograph.’ “Nasty sell for you, wasn’t it?” he remarked. Usk stared at him blankly. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said. “Why, this afternoon--about that Bill of yours. Have you forgotten it already?” “Oh--my Bill,” repeated Usk, vaguely. “I have been thinking of--of other things since then. Excuse me, I can’t stay.” “He looks perfectly dazed,” said the other man to himself. “What can it be? Has some girl chucked him? No! who’s that talking to Mrs Sadleir? Drakovics, no less!” He made his way towards his hostess, arriving just in time to hear her farewell to Usk. “Perhaps you will have something to tell me to-morrow, Usk. If so, look in about three o’clock. I shall be quite alone.” “Nuts!” muttered the journalist. Then aloud to Mrs Sadleir he added, “Surely I saw our old friend Drakovics here just now?” “Yes, he is here to-night,” said the hostess. “We don’t make a fuss about our foreign guests nowadays, and have receptions at Trentham House and public festivities for them, you see. They come and go quietly.” “Still looking for a king, eh? He has come to England to try and get hold of the latest royal infant as a ruler for his one-horse State, hasn’t he?” Clever woman though she was, Mrs Sadleir could occasionally be “drawn,” and this the ‘Chronograph’ man knew well. She smiled now significantly as she answered--