“No, thank you,” returned his brother. “I have a pretty fair idea of the way you would speak of it--as a youthful indiscretion, of which I was ashamed. And I am not ashamed. I should be the proudest man on earth if Nadia were to be crowned with me this day two months.” “Very well,” sighed Cyril. “I suppose if you will make an ass of yourself, you must. We are to arrange, then, for a personal interview, in the course of which you will, in so many words, refuse to marry Princess Ottilie?” “There’s no occasion to do anything so rude. I shall simply tell her the truth, and leave it to her to refuse me. Or I’ll write to her. Yes, that’s much the best plan. It will save time and a lot of difficulty.” “But you can’t!” cried Cyril, with his hand on the door. “Do you mean to write to a girl who hasn’t even accepted you, and tell her you won’t marry her? No, you must see her, as you say, and explain things. I’ll manage to get you an interview somehow, though it’s against my better judgment.” “Be quick, then,” cried Caerleon after him, as he went out, “for if there’s any delay, I shall write to her myself.” CHAPTER XI. A DELICATE NEGOTIATION. “Well?” asked M. Drakovics, anxiously, when Cyril appeared in his office. “How did his Majesty receive the news?” “As badly as you could wish. He won’t hear of marrying Princess Ottilie, and wanted to telegraph his views at once to Eusebia. However, I have got him to consent to see the lady, so that the honour of refusing him may rest with her, and if we play our cards well, that ought to give us all we want.” “How?” asked M. Drakovics, quickly. “It will gain us time and a favourable impression, and if we can once succeed in separating Scythia and Pannonia, we ought certainly to be able to prevent their coming together again.” “Undoubtedly we ought to be able to manage that. But how do you propose to bring about a coolness between them?” “The coolness will come of its own accord fast enough when it is understood that Caerleon is going to marry Princess Ottilie, for the Empress of Pannonia was one of the Schwarzwald-Molzaus, and they always stick together. Our business, therefore, is to produce the impression, even if it is only a temporary one, that he is going to marry her.” “Right!” said M. Drakovics, emphatically. “And your method?” “We are to consider it settled, I suppose, that the King of Mœsia will take kindly to the idea? Very well; then as soon as his answer is received, you must telegraph to inquire whether he will give a private audience to a confidential envoy of the highest rank, in order to discuss matters connected with the proposed marriage. He is pretty safe to consent, and then either you or I must go to Eusebia.” “But why?” “In reality to arrange for this interview which is to end everything. But if the European public chooses to regard the mission in a different light, we cannot help it.”