“Ah, here it is!” cried Cyril, and he began to translate rapidly and freely: “‘The Carlino-O’Malachy affair, of which so much has lately been heard in society, appears likely to have far-reaching consequences.’ Then there comes pretty much what we have just read in ‘Mendacity.’ Then it goes on: ‘With a view to obtaining authoritative information on the subject, a representative of this journal called yesterday upon Colonel O’Malachy, who was paying a flying visit to the city, and left this morning. Colonel O’Malachy is a veteran soldier, wearing a medal for distinguished services, and the order of the Byzantine Empire. He has served in----’ oh, that doesn’t signify. ‘The gallant officer maintained an attitude of strict reserve, but admitted that the published accounts of the Thracian usurper’s conduct are substantially true. The publicity which had been given to the matter was, however, quite contrary to his wishes and those of his family, for it was not, he said, the custom of a house which numbered kings among its ancestors to submit its wrongs to the arbitrament of a court either of law or of public opinion. Let but an appeal be made to arms, and he would trust to meet the English filibuster face to face on the soil he has seized, and to sheathe the sword, which had drunk Moslem blood in ’77, in his treacherous heart.’” “That conclusion is rather fine,” observed Cyril. “I always knew that the O’Malachy was about as picturesque an old villain as remains unhung in these degenerate days; but I did not know he was quite capable of these heroics.” “Perhaps a telegram which I received before you came in may throw some light upon the matter,” said the King. “It is from our Minister at Pavelsburg, telling me that this very paper had been warned by the censor, at his request, for publishing unauthorised news. He added that the news related to the King of Thracia.” “Only warned? not suspended?” said Cyril. “That shows they were not sorry to have it believed, then. Well, I fear we can do nothing to bring Scythia to a sense of the error of her ways; but I think I can put a spoke in Dickinson’s wheel.” “I am about to indite a formal complaint to the British Government,” said the King. “It is intolerable that a newspaper should be allowed to libel the sovereign of a neighbouring country in this way, especially when it is remembered that he is on the point of connecting himself with my family.” “I’m afraid that will scarcely do,” said Cyril. “You see, for one thing, Caerleon isn’t exactly the sovereign of a neighbouring country--at least, no one seems quite to know whether he is a sovereign at all, or not.” “But that will be satisfactorily settled before long,” said the King.