It was not a large body. At the instance of Gondremark, it had undergone a strict purgation, and was now composed exclusively of tools. Three secretaries sat at a side-table. Seraphina took the head; on her right was the Baron, on her left Greisengesang; below these Grafinski the treasurer, Count Eisenthal, a couple of non-combatants, and, to the surprise of all, Gotthold. He had been named a privy councillor by Otto, merely that he might profit by the salary; and as he was never known to attend a meeting, it had occurred to nobody to cancel his appointment. His present appearance was the more ominous, coming when it did. Gondremark scowled upon him; and the non-combatant on his right, intercepting this black look, edged away from one who was so clearly out of favour. ‘The hour presses, your Highness,’ said the Baron; ‘may we proceed to business?’ ‘At once,’ replied Seraphina. ‘Your Highness will pardon me,’ said Gotthold; ‘but you are still, perhaps, unacquainted with the fact that Prince Otto has returned.’ ‘The Prince will not attend the council,’ replied Seraphina, with a momentary blush. ‘The despatches, Herr Cancellarius? There is one for Gerolstein?’ A secretary brought a paper. ‘Here, madam,’ said Greisengesang. ‘Shall I read it?’ ‘We are all familiar with its terms,’ replied Gondremark. ‘Your Highness approves?’ ‘Unhesitatingly,’ said Seraphina. ‘It may then be held as read,’ concluded the Baron. ‘Will your Highness sign?’ The Princess did so; Gondremark, Eisenthal, and one of the non-combatants followed suit; and the paper was then passed across the table to the librarian. He proceeded leisurely to read. ‘We have no time to spare, Herr Doctor,’ cried the Baron brutally. ‘If you do not choose to sign on the authority of your sovereign, pass it on. Or you may leave the table,’ he added, his temper ripping out. ‘I decline your invitation, Herr von Gondremark; and my sovereign, as I continue to observe with regret, is still absent from the board,’ replied the Doctor calmly; and he resumed the perusal of the paper, the rest chafing and exchanging glances. ‘Madame and gentlemen,’ he said, at last, ‘what I hold in my hand is simply a declaration of war.’ ‘Simply,’ said Seraphina, flashing defiance. ‘The sovereign of this country is under the same roof with us,’ continued Gotthold, ‘and I insist he shall be summoned. It is needless to adduce my reasons; you are all ashamed at heart of this projected treachery.’ The council waved like a sea. There were various outcries. ‘You insult the Princess,’ thundered Gondremark. ‘I maintain my protest,’ replied Gotthold.