“That we can do in his Majesty’s proclamations,” said M. Drakovics. “The people have grown so much accustomed to the name Carlino that I fear they will always apply it to him. It sounds familiar to their ears, and it is a kind of affectionate diminutive. But with regard to our future plans----” he went on, addressing Caerleon. “Will your Majesty allow me to tell the people that you will start to-day on your journey to Bellaviste?” “Is it really necessary?” asked Caerleon. “I hate doing things in such a hurry.” “It is absolutely necessary,” returned M. Drakovics, “that your Majesty should be crowned as speedily as possible. The whole future of your reign may depend upon it.” “Oh, very well,” said Caerleon. “In for a penny, in for a pound. I have to live for Thracia now, I suppose. I’ll tell my man to pack up.” He went back into the room before M. Drakovics could forestall him, or even intimate to Cyril that it would look well for him to do his brother’s errands in future, and ran up-stairs to look for Wright, for bells there were none in this primitive hostelry. But Wright and the reason for seeking him were speedily forgotten when he reached the upper balcony, for he saw Nadia coming towards him from the direction of the rooms occupied by the O’Malachy family. “I hope you are better this morning,” he said, eagerly, hastening to meet her. “I am so glad to see that you are able to be up.” “But I am always up at six,” said Nadia. “Did you think I was ill?” “I understood from your mother----” he began, but remembering that to finish would be to charge Madame O’Malachy with deceiving him, he changed the form of his sentence lamely enough, “I saw nothing of you when I got here yesterday, you know, and I was afraid you were not well.” “Did you expect to find me at the gate waiting for you?” asked Nadia, sharply. “Oh, I did not intend to be so rude,” and she blushed crimson. “I only mean that my room is at the back of the house, and I did not even know you had arrived.” “I was hoping,” said Caerleon, deliberately, “that we might meet again as friends, though I was so unfortunate as to offend you the last time we had a talk.” “Now you are trying to make me ashamed of myself for being cross,” said Nadia, “and it is not kind of you. Lord Caerleon,” she broke off suddenly, and surveyed him with puzzled eyes, “has anything happened? What is the matter?” “Why?” he asked. “Because you look different. Something has happened. What is it?” “Well, I am once more king elect, or designate, or whatever you like to call it, of Thracia, if that will account for it. I didn’t know that the divinity that doth hedge a king was visible outwardly, but I suppose that’s what you mean.” “You have accepted the crown?” she asked, anxiously. “I have accepted it, bearing in mind my last conversation with you. I hope you are pleased with me now?” “It was what I said that influenced you to consent? You would not have done it otherwise?”