“It shall be,” returned M. Drakovics, after a severe mental struggle. “The matter is so important that it is worth even a dangerous experiment.” When his protracted interview with M. Drakovics was over and Cyril went in search of Caerleon, his first words on finding him were to suggest that it would be a graceful recognition of the sacrifices Louis O’Malachy had made in the cause of Thracia to appoint him at once to a lieutenancy in the palace guard, thus showing him special favour by placing him close to the sovereign’s own person. Caerleon looked surprised. “I think it’s a very good idea,” he said; “but you have always been so suspicious of the poor fellow’s motives that I should not have expected you to propose it. I will have the commission made out at once. And as we are now on the subject of the O’Malachy family, I may as well remind you of something of which Drakovics apparently is not aware. He attacked me this morning about marrying; but you know, if he doesn’t, that I intend to marry Miss O’Malachy, and no one else.” “I never imagined that you wanted to imitate the Grand Signior of Roum, and marry twenty or thirty ladies at once,” said Cyril; but seeing Caerleon’s face darken, he added hastily, “I beg your pardon, old man. I was only joking. Do you intend to make formal proposals at once to papa for the hand of mademoiselle?” “Not yet,” said Caerleon. “You see,” he went on quickly, as if it was a relief to unburden himself to his brother, “I can’t tell a bit how she’ll take it. She has never given me the least encouragement, and last night she scarcely spoke to me. Unfortunately, I can’t help guessing that the kingdom would weigh pretty heavily with her parents in my favour, and I don’t want the poor girl worried into marrying me, nor her life made a burden to her because she won’t. Madame O’Malachy has promised me her support; but though it sounds a little ungrateful, I would rather manage the business without her interference.” “I don’t think any amount of worrying would make Miss O’Malachy do a thing she had made up her mind not to do,” said Cyril. “But seriously, Caerleon, I can’t believe she means to marry you. She gave you the cold shoulder pointedly enough last night. Can’t you chuck up the business, old man? I don’t imagine you care for her very particularly.” “Don’t you?” asked Caerleon, looking down on him with a smile. “My dear boy, you are very young still.” “If you mean to insinuate that I haven’t had twice as much experience in affairs of the kind as you have,” began Cyril, with a great show of indignation, “I’ll----” “I daresay--ten times as much. That accounts for your ignorance.” “Well, don’t look so horribly superior. It’s awfully riling for the other fellow, don’t you know? Now, look here, you leave this thing to me, and I’ll do you a good turn. You want to find out the state of Miss O’Malachy’s feelings before approaching her father. I’ll manage to get you a chance of speaking to her alone.”