“There is one fatal flaw in our case,” said Cyril,--“Caerleon’s connivance in the Princess’s plot. If that once comes out, nothing can save us. But the happy couple are both animated by sentiments of such deep gratitude towards him, that I don’t think they are likely to split. If the Queen was on the opposite side, she would be dangerous; but King Johann is not likely to ask her advice, and she will not feel inclined to interfere uninvited. Therefore I think we may count upon the facts not transpiring, unless Caerleon publishes it in one of these unaccountable chivalrous fits of his. He is out of the way for to-day, and we ought to be able to get things settled by the time he comes back in such a way that it will not dawn upon him how we managed it. Bounce is our only chance. Our business just now is to keep Caerleon on the throne, not to give Europe lessons in morality gratis at his expense. How soon can the First Army Corps be ready to mobilise?” “In twenty-four hours. We tried the experiment only a fortnight ago.” “Good. Then telegraph to Sertchaieff to mass it on the Mœsian frontier as soon as it can be got there. You see our game?” “I do, milord. It is a bold, but not an impossible one to play. But why not occupy the ceded territory at once?” “Because we don’t wish to start the war if we can help it. We must carry this business through without giving the Powers cause to interfere, if possible. Pannonia will do our work if we make proper use of the Schwarzwald-Molzau family influence; but for us to cross the Mœsian frontier would be to defy her to do her worst. Still, you might also telegraph to the commandant at Feodoratz, ordering him to be ready to move out with his troops at a moment’s notice. They are only ten miles away from the disputed strip, and could take possession and hold it easily until they were relieved the day after to-morrow by the First Army Corps. There is a horn! You had better be in the drawing-room with me to receive the messenger.” “One moment, milord. Where is the King?” “I have sent him out shooting. He is better out of the way this morning.” “But if the King of Mœsia were to send after him and capture him, we should be lost.” “King Johann Casimir will not know where he is, if I can help it,” said Cyril, “and the idea would scarcely occur to his mind, in any case. If he were on good terms with the Queen, it is the kind of bold measure that would suggest itself to her; but he isn’t, and therefore he won’t have the benefit of her advice.” They went into the drawing-room, the only part of the little house that boasted of foreign furniture and decorations, and presently a very high official of the Mœsian Court was ushered in. M. Drakovics and Cyril received him with grave faces and in dead silence. “My orders are to open my business to no one but the King himself,” said the messenger.