“She’s up to something,” he said to himself, “but I can’t for the life of me see what it is. It’s all very well for Drakovics to say that women will do such and such things; but that’s where he and fellows of his stamp always go wrong--in imagining that they can generalise about women. It’s scarcely ever possible to judge of a woman’s probable conduct from precedents. She is quite capable of striking out a new line each time. I wonder now whether the Queen thinks she will be able to get round the old man, and make him break off the match? Well, so long as we get the treaty signed, and they don’t set to work too soon, it doesn’t much matter. If only the King had not hung about as he did, I could have found out a good many interesting things. But he was afraid they would let on about Prince Alexis, and so he has effectually stopped my giving the Princess a warning as to Caerleon’s little game. It’s his own fault if the scheme goes wrong. I wonder whether he will be able to carry through the business with Pannonia properly.” This unpleasant doubt exercised Cyril’s mind frequently during his long ride. He had devoted the concluding portion of his interview with the King to coaching him delicately for the part he was to play, without actually making any suggestions as to the means to be used. King Johann flattered himself that he was an accomplished diplomatist, but his young visitor could scarcely have ventured to leave him to act alone if he had not felt the issue to be so clear that the worst bungling could hardly succeed in obscuring it. The King’s duty was merely to intimate to his uncle, the Grand-Duke of Schwarzwald-Molzau, that if Caerleon’s position in Europe were secured, and he were allowed to marry Princess Ottilie, the succession to the Mœsian throne would be left open for one of the younger princes of the parent house. There could be little doubt that he would welcome the suggestion, and contrive to bring about the desired change in the policy of the Powers by influencing Pannonian diplomacy through his daughter the Empress. Thus Cyril’s mind was tolerably at ease when, after nearly a day and a half of riding--for he had started too late to complete the return journey in one day--he reached the neighbourhood of Bellaviste. They were passing through a small village when the first distant glimpse of the city was obtained, and Wright urged his horse up to Cyril’s. “Beg your pardon, my lord, but p’raps you’d like to rest ’ere for a hour or so, and give these ’ere ’orses a feed and a bit of a rub-down. It looks as though we didn’t know ’ow to treat a ’orse to bring ’im in like this, and me always a-jawin’ the stable-boys about it.”