Angelescu, his face burning, cut to the quick, saluted and answered stiffly. "Your Highness shall be obeyed," then turned on his heel; but Mirko called him back, already regretting the sharpness of his tone and language towards his old playmate and faithful friend. "Hold on, old man, don't take it like that! I didn't mean what I said, at least not all. You seem to think me a sort of villain in disguise, and you arrogate to yourself the responsibility for my conduct in every direction. You sat at table glaring at me as if I were trying to poison Mademoiselle. Now what is the matter with you?" "I thought that Your Highness did not realize the fact that she is only a child and quite unused to champagne--" "Did you not hear the Captain?" "The Captain is a rough old sailor, unused to young girls; I thought--" "You think too much, Otto. Besides, it's rather new for you to play the part of 'Squire of Dames' to wandering damsels--I believe the root of the matter is that you are in love with the girl, yourself. Why don't you marry her? You could, you know." "Your Highness knows very well that I am not free to marry," said Angelescu in a low voice, a dark flush spreading over his face. The Prince knew well, as did everyone else, that his aide was bound, and had been for years, to a married woman of high rank, whose unhappy married life had been responsible for the forming of the liaison, and that now time and custom and a quixotic sense of moral obligation continued to bind the unfortunate Angelescu to the lady's chariot wheels, though any feeling he had had for her was long since dead. Ragna's entrance put a stop to further explanations, and Angelescu excused himself, saying that he must attend to the neglected writing of the afternoon. So the other two were left with the deck to themselves. It was a perfect evening, the full moon hung low in an almost cloudless sky and the broad silver pathway over the water looked like a carpet laid for a procession of fairies. Ragna hung over the rail in an ecstasy of appreciative joy. "Oh, isn't it just like Heaven!" she murmured. "I can't say," answered Mirko, "never having been there, but it would make a good setting for a love scene. Imagine it for a honeymoon!" "I must answer like Your Highness," laughed Ragna, "never having had a honeymoon I can't very well imagine one." "Then look at the lovers in the moon." "Lovers in the moon!" "What! have you never seen them?" "I see only the hare, with his two long ears." "Look again, the lady is on the right, and you see her head in profile, her lover has a beard--there, do you see?" "No," said Ragna, "I still do not see." "That is because your eyes have not been opened; when you have had a lover, you will see the Lovers in the moon." Ragna laughed at the idea. "Why should having a lover improve one's eyesight?" she asked.