"If there is any hurry," said Kuthen, who had regained his composure as soon as he scented danger, "let us go into the next room." "No need for that, your Highness," returned Akos, also recovering himself. "In fact, if you will allow me, I will share your supper. There is no need for immediate action, but we must be prepared," he added in a low tone. "Ah," sighed the Queen, "our soothsayers had good reason to warn us against coming here! We are in a state of constant unrest, and I am weary of it. For my part, I can't think why we did not leave this gilded prison long ago, and join our people in their new settlements, where we should at least be among those who love and honour us." "You are right there, wife, and you all know it is what I have long wished," said Kuthen. "Where is the good of being called 'King,' when one has no kingdom? My people are being ruled by foreigners, and, though I sit at the King's Council, nothing that I say has any weight. No, what I want is to be the father of my large family again, as I used to be, until I go and join my ancestors. No, I will stay here no longer! The King has always been kind to us, and I will open his eyes to what is going on unknown to him." But here a sign from Akos made the King hold his peace, and the subject was dropped for the present. It was not Kuthen's way to betray anything like fear; and now when, to his imagination at least, the storm was already beginning to blow about his ears, he would not on any account that the servants should have so much as an inkling of that which filled his own mind. He remained at table exactly as long as usual, and, when they all rose, he repeated as usual the Lord's Prayer, the only one he had learnt. He recited it in Latin, in an uncouth accent, and with sundry mistakes, but he said it calmly and collectedly as usual, and the rest followed his example. Then, passing between a double row of servants, he led the way through an adjoining room to the spacious hall in which he and his family usually passed their evenings and received their guests. The Queen and her daughters took up some sort of needle-work, and Kuthen signed to his sons to bring him one of the many dog-wood bows which hung on the wall. This he proceeded with their help to fit with a string stout enough to deserve the name of rope, for it was as big round as an ordinary finger. The making of these unusually long and powerful bows, the chief weapon of the Kunok, and the sharpening and feathering of the arrows, was the King's favourite occupation, and one in which he displayed no little skill. The string also was of home manufacture, and, as the work went on, the young men moistened it from time to time with water. Many a time Akos had joined them in their evening work, but to-night, as they sat round the blazing fire, his hands were idle.