A slight shadow darkened the Professor’s open countenance. He looked fixedly at Sir Roger, who met his gaze with equal fixity. “The Prince,”--he said slowly--“is young--” “And rash--” interposed De Launay. “No. Pardon me, my friend! Not rash. Merely honest. That is all! He is a very honest young man indeed. It is unfortunate that he is so; a ploughman may be honest if he likes, but a prince--never!” De Launay was silent. “I will now destroy a world”--continued Von Glauben, “Kings, emperors, popes, councillors and common folk, can all perish incontinently,--as--being myself for the present the free agent of the Deity concerned in the matter,--I have something else to do than to look after them,”--and he took up the glass vessel containing the animalculae he had been watching, and cast it with its contents into a small stove burning dimly at one end of the apartment,--“Gone are their ambitions and confabulations for ever! How easy for the Creator to do the same thing with us, Roger! Let us not talk of any special danger for the King or for any man, seeing that we are all on the edge of an eternal volcano!” De Launay stood absorbed for a moment, as if in deep thought. Then rousing himself abruptly he said:-- “You will not see the King, and speak with him before to-morrow night?” “Why should I?” queried the Professor. “His wish is a command which I must obey. Besides, my good Roger, all the arguments in the world will not turn a man from having his own way if he has once made up his own mind. Advice from me on the present matter would be merely taken as an impertinence. Moreover I have no advice to give,--I rather approve of the plan!” Sir Roger looked at him; and noting the humorous twinkle in his eyes smiled, though somewhat gravely. “I hope, with you, that the experiment may only prove an amusing one,” he said--“But life is not always a farce!” “Not always, but often! When it is not a farce it is a tragedy. And such a tragedy! My God! Horrible--monstrous--cruel beyond conception, and enough to make one believe in Hell and doubt Heaven!” He spoke passionately, in a voice vibrating with strong emotion. De Launay glanced at him wonderingly, but did not speak. “When you see tender young children tortured by disease,” he went on,--“Fair and gentle women made the victims of outrage and brutality--strong men killed in their thousands to gain a little additional gold, an extra slice of empire,--then you see the tragic, the inexplicable, the crazy cruelty of putting into us this little pulse called Life. But I try not to think of this--it is no use thinking!” He paused,--then in his usual quiet tone said: “To-morrow night, then, my friend?” “To-morrow night,” rejoined De Launay,--“Unless you receive further instructions from the King.”