At that moment the clear call of a trumpet echoing across the battlements of the palace denoted the hour for changing the sentry. “Sunset already!” said Von Glauben, walking to the window and throwing back the heavy curtain which partially shaded it, “And yonder is Prince Humphry’s yacht on its homeward way.” De Launay came and stood beside him, looking out. Before them the sea glistened with a thousand tints of lustrous opal in the light of the sinking sun, which, surrounded by mountainous heights of orange and purple cloud, began to touch the water-line with a thousand arrowy darts of flame. The white-sailed vessel on which their eyes were fixed, came curtseying over the waves through a perfect arch of splendid colour, like a fairy or phantom ship evoked from a poet’s dream. “Absent all day, as he has been,” said De Launay, “his Royal Highness is punctual to the promised hour of his return.” “He is, as I told you, honest;” said Von Glauben, “and it is possible his honesty will be his misfortune.” De Launay muttered something inaudible in answer, and turned to leave the apartment. Von Glauben looked at him with an affectionate solicitude. “What a lucky thing it is you never married, Roger! Otherwise you would now be going to tell your wife all about the King’s plans! Then she, sweet creature, would go to confession,--and her confessor would tell a bishop,--and a bishop would tell a cardinal,--and a cardinal would tell a confidential monsignor,--and the confidential monsignor would tell the Supreme Pontiff,--and so all the world would be ringing with the news started by one little pretty wagging tongue of a woman!” A faint flush coloured De Launay’s bronzed cheek, but he laughed. “True! I am glad I have never married. I am still more glad--of circumstances”--he paused,--then went on, “which have so chanced to me that I shall never marry.” He paused again--then added--“I must be gone, Von Glauben! I have to meet Prince Humphry at the quay with a message from his Majesty.” “Surely,” said the Professor, opening his eyes very wide, “The Prince is not to be included in our adventure?” “By no means!” replied De Launay,--“But the King is not pleased with his son’s frequent absences from Court, and desires to speak with him on the matter.” Von Glauben looked grave. “There will be some little trouble there,” he said, with a half sigh--“Ach! Who knows! Perhaps some great trouble!” “Heaven forbid!” ejaculated Sir Roger,--“We live in times of peace. We want no dissension with either the King or the people. Till to-morrow night then?” “Till to-morrow night!” responded Von Glauben, whereupon Sir Roger with a brief word of farewell, strode away. Left to himself, the Professor still stood at his window watching the approach of the Prince’s yacht, which came towards the shore with such swift and stately motion through the portals of the sunset, over the sparkling water.