“But why not come on with us now?” asked Caerleon. “May I not have the pleasure of receiving you as my guests? I don’t know the capacity of the palace at Bellaviste; but it must certainly be large enough to accommodate your party, if you don’t mind roughing it for a time in a bachelor’s household.” “A thousand thanks,” said Madame O’Malachy, with her sweetest smile, “but I am afraid we must decline your hospitable proposition. However, we will certainly continue our journey into your kingdom, and no doubt there will be a hotel at Bellaviste which can take us in. Rely upon me as your friend. I am not an enthusiast, I do not pretend to have no regard for the splendours of a throne, but I wish you well, and what help I can give you with this daughter of mine I will.” And with this assurance of support Caerleon was obliged to be content. CHAPTER VI. A ROYAL PROGRESS. “Where is the King?” asked M. Drakovics, coming into the coffee-room hastily about an hour later, and finding only Cyril, who was engaged in performing some complicated operation with a bradawl and the strap of a knapsack. “His Majesty,” returned Cyril, in the choicest ‘Court Circular’ style, “is walking out this morning, and at this moment is probably conversing in a friendly spirit with some of his faithful subjects, through the medium of Mr Louis O’Malachy.” “These O’Malachys again!” cried M. Drakovics. “This must be stopped!” He turned angrily to leave the room, but Cyril was at the door before him. “One moment, monsieur. I wish to know on what terms we are to stand?” “I do not understand you, milord”--M. Drakovics was astonished--“but I hope to satisfy you later. Meanwhile, are you aware that Colonel O’Malachy and his family leave this place to-day, before his Majesty, for Bellaviste, and intend to reside there for the present? That cannot be allowed.” “Now we have come to the point,” said Cyril. “I want a plain answer to a plain question, M. Drakovics. Are you and I to work together or not? If we are to be friends, I will tell you at once that you are meditating a very great mistake, and that I should be glad to help you to avoid it.” “Milord!” The Kossuth of the Balkans looked Cyril up and down in amazement visibly mingled with scorn. “I am highly honoured by your offer of co-operation, but my dull mind fails to perceive its advantages.”