"Yes, Excellency. Graciously excuse our stupidity; it is true that the light misled us as to the speed of your Excellency's car." "Exactly. Good night." "Good night, Excellency." "Allard, Allard," drawled Adrian, throwing his levers, "bribery and deception! And under my eyes." "I obeyed orders, sire," he retorted demurely. "May I drive?" "_La belle excuse!_ However, I admit the coercion. No, you may not drive; I will consider your reputation the rest of the way." This time they turned home, at a more modest pace. Again they ran the gauntlet of the brilliant, sullen streets, and Allard's heart lost a beat with each halt made necessary by the crowd or each glance from the knots of men gathered on the corners. At the sleepy garage they at last arrived, and left the automobile. It was but a short distance to the palace, and they walked in silence until almost before the door, when Adrian paused for an instant. "You guard me so carefully, with so much energy, my inconsistent Allard," he observed, the lighter manner of the last hours hardened into his usual coldness. "Have you then not thought what it would mean to your beloved Regent if I were removed?" "Sire, if I thought of that it would be to guard you with double care," Allard flashed, shocked and deeply wounded. "Surely I owe so much." And after a moment, recovering a little, "For that matter, even the Baron Dalmorov admits the protection that the Regent draws around your Imperial Majesty. Sire, if the Grand Duke planned treason, has he not had ample opportunities before now?" "Are you trying to convince me that some one still exists who possesses a sense of duty?" "Perhaps you will more readily credit a sense of honor, sire." "Perhaps. So it is a point of honor to take care of me?" "Yes, sire." Adrian turned and went on without comment. The guard at the door saluted Allard without regarding the uninteresting figure of the chauffeur, and they passed into the safety of the palace. When they were once more in the little salon and had slipped off their wraps, the impression seized Allard that his companion was rather pale and fatigued. Either from the pallor or from recent excitement Adrian looked younger than usual as he stood pushing back the dark hair disordered by his mask, and the watcher was pierced by remorse and something of Stanief's wide pity for the one so warped by circumstance and environment. Very kind to him the Emperor had been, the Emperor who next week would send away the only two men who cared for him and stand splendidly desolate in his treacherous court. The pathos of it beat down resentment. And being transparent, Allard's gray eyes betrayed the softened thoughts as they encountered the other's. "Well?" Adrian questioned, as if to a spoken phrase. "You will not believe me, sire, but--I would guard you if nothing compelled." Adrian made a movement of surprise, then smiled at Allard with almost his cousin's charming grace.