“If that is the case, I think your Majesty has shown pretty plainly that the prospect of a marriage between my brother and the Princess does not meet with your approval,” said Cyril, with awful coldness. “If your Majesty will permit me, I will communicate the fact to him, and we will leave the castle at once.” “No, no! you are too hasty,” said King Johann, quickly. “It is surely only natural that I should resent such an aspersion on the character of my future son-in-law. Surely, too, I may complain of a want of openness on your part. Why have I heard nothing of this prior attachment?” “One is not particularly anxious to publish it abroad that one’s brother has made a fool of himself,” said Cyril, frankly. “I don’t mind acknowledging that I was glad to hush the matter up. But Caerleon insisted on telling the Princess all about it, and I know that he did so before their engagement took place. No doubt that is one reason for his looking so seedy lately. Of course he felt that it wasn’t quite fair for a man with an experience of that kind fresh in his memory to seek the love of a whole-hearted, unworldly young girl like her Royal Highness.” This was carrying the war into the enemy’s camp with a vengeance, and the King climbed down from his high horse somewhat hastily. “I do not complain so much of the concealment of the matter from myself, as of the fact that other persons have been allowed to obtain a knowledge of it,” he said, wisely waiving the question of Princess Ottilie’s inexperience in affairs of the heart. Cyril made no remark, but accepted the words as confirmation of a suspicion which had occurred to him once or twice, that King Johann’s ignorance was merely official, and that he had all along been aware of the existence of Nadia, although he had acquiesced discreetly in the silence hitherto maintained with regard to her. “How do you suppose that the news reached England?” the King went on. “From a Scythian source, no doubt,” answered Cyril, promptly. “Dickinson, the editor of ‘Mendacity,’ hunts up the scandals of all nations for his wretched rag. I suppose you have no Scythian newspaper of last week?” “I remember now that one was sent me. It is evident that I have not so many kind friends in Scythia as in England. I put it on one side, for I do not myself read Scythian easily; and I thought--the Queen--about this marriage--things might be said----” “As matters stand, it is a very good thing you did not,” said Cyril, answering the thought rather than the words. “Her Majesty might have misunderstood the whole affair. We all know that ladies are often apt to take strong prejudices, unfortunately.” “Will you read it, and see what it says?” suggested the King. “I don’t know much Scythian, but I might manage to puzzle it out,” said Cyril; and the King brought out a crumpled paper, which the two studied painfully for some minutes.