"You tell me that yourself, Monsieur Allard? Oh, if Dalmorov could hear you! Never mind; perhaps Feodor is deceiving you, perhaps you are both sincere, but certainly you yourself are all truthful. His turn also comes to-day, my cousin's." "I do not understand--" "It is not necessary. I am going to receive him here, this morning. After he arrives, pray stay at the other end of the terrace and let no one pass to disturb us." This daily visit of the Regent had become a matter of course. Sometimes it found Adrian surrounded by many people, sometimes alone, more often with Allard, as now. And never was he so sweetly gracious to Stanief as in Dalmorov's presence; although, as Stanief knew perfectly well, at other times he listened without rebuke to the baron's constant insinuations and warnings. If the young Emperor had confidence in no one, most assuredly no one could risk a judgment of his real thoughts. Only one sentiment he took no care to conceal: for whatever reason, he liked the regular visit and would suffer nothing to prevent it. However puzzled by the last suggestion, Allard could only comply with the request and retire as Stanief came down the steps a moment later. And Stanief, seeing Adrian waiting alone, left his aide at the head of the terrace and alone came to him. So, Vasili at one end of the grassy ledge, Allard at the other, the cousins were for once unobserved. Adrian's expression was unusually animated as Stanief bent over his hand. "Do you know why I wished to see you out here in quietness, cousin?" he demanded. "I am afraid not, sire," Stanief confessed, smiling. "Then sit down here," he touched the bench on which he himself was seated, "and I will tell you." Stanief obeyed, and Adrian surveyed his stately kinsman with earnest, though doubting intentness. "That night on the _Nadeja_," he at last said, "when you told me that I governed, 'but'--were you in earnest? It amused me to tell Dalmorov--not all you said or when you said it, of course--yet some of that. I told him you had promised to do as I wished, and he insisted that you played with me. Were you in earnest, I wonder?" "Absolutely in earnest," Stanief answered, too well trained in self-mastery to betray his irritation at being discussed with his rival in the game of the future. "'But'--" Adrian repeated, and sat silent for an instant. "Were you ever in love with a woman, cousin?" The question was so unexpected that Stanief started and replied almost at random: "No, sire." "Dalmorov says that you were, long ago." "Dalmorov," the other began, then checked himself, his tone chilling. "The incident to which Baron Dalmorov doubtless refers, sire, hardly answers your question. Ten years ago, when I was less than twenty-two, I was briefly attracted toward a lady of the court. The affair died in its birth, on my discovering that mademoiselle was acting as the paid spy of the Emperor, your father. Since then I have thought of more important matters."