Adrian took the arm-chair which the other advanced, and himself indicated a seat very near for his cousin. He had, of course, seen Allard on entering, but, accustomed to the constant presence of others, lent no further attention to the gentleman who remained standing at the shadowed end of the salon. On Stanief his large, intent eyes were fixed with an imperiously eager scrutiny. "You are the same as always, as you were last winter," he declared slowly. "Dalmorov has insisted that I would find you very different, now." "The Baron Dalmorov is more than kind," Stanief replied, betrayed into his unusual frown. "May I ask why I should have changed?" "Because you are Regent, and you govern all." "I beg pardon, sire; if I am Regent, you are none the less Emperor." Over the young face swept an expression that so altered, so hardened it, that it was as if another and dual self came into view. "Then I rule _you_, as my father did," he flashed. Allard gasped in his corner; was this the child of fourteen whom he had expected to amuse? And not as to a child was given the difficult answer by the one who knew him. "Yes, sire," Stanief returned steadily. "But--" "But! You say but?" "May I speak frankly? You will find many people to flatter you, to tell you facile, surface truths; let me for once tell exactly my meaning. Assuredly you do rule me and your country, so far as the possibilities permit. Yet you are surrounded by those who hate me, and even you, sire, who would joyfully see us both fall if they might mount upon the ruins. Many times I may see what is hidden from you, and I must act accordingly. Sire, it is my intention to hold this seething Empire of yours in my grasp, to force it to bend or break in its stubborn wilfulness, until three years from now I give it back to you a tranquil government. But--and for this I said 'but'--if necessary, I shall act against your will, as against all other forces, until I carry my purpose to its end and have you crowned on your seventeenth birthday." He drew a swift breath, caught by his own vehemence, his eyes never leaving the unchildish ones opposite. "And on the day of your coronation, sire," he concluded, with a touch of sadness, "you will rule without the _but_. Call me to account then; I assure you I shall have no friends to protest." Allard's own heart quickened at the fire of determination in the other's low voice. If only it had been a man who met that splendid frankness, he mourned furiously, not a child, a sullen child. For Adrian did not move at all, or answer the daring declaration. His head averted, he looked down at the floor. Stanief waited a little, and the light died out of his face.