‘Aribert,’ the Hereditary Prince continued, when they were alone in the chamber, ‘you think I am mad.’ ‘My dear Eugen,’ said Prince Aribert, startled in spite of himself. ‘Don’t be absurd.’ ‘I say you think I am mad. You think that that attack of brain fever has left its permanent mark on me. Well, perhaps I am mad. Who can tell? God knows that I have been through enough lately to drive me mad.’ Aribert made no reply. As a matter of strict fact, the thought had crossed his mind that Eugen’s brain had not yet recovered its normal tone and activity. This speech of his nephew’s, however, had the effect of immediately restoring his belief in the latter’s entire sanity. He felt convinced that if only he could regain his nephew’s confidence, the old brotherly confidence which had existed between them since the years when they played together as boys, all might yet be well. But at present there appeared to be no sign that Eugen meant to give his confidence to anyone. The young Prince had come up out of the valley of the shadow of death, but some of the valley’s shadow had clung to him, and it seemed he was unable to dissipate it. ‘By the way,’ said Eugen suddenly, ‘I must reward these Racksoles, I suppose. I am indeed grateful to them. If I gave the girl a bracelet, and the father a thousand guineas--how would that meet the case?’ ‘My dear Eugen!’ exclaimed Aribert aghast. ‘A thousand guineas! Do you know that Theodore Racksole could buy up all Posen from end to end without making himself a pauper. A thousand guineas! You might as well offer him sixpence.’ ‘Then what must I offer?’ ‘Nothing, except your thanks. Anything else would be an insult. These are no ordinary hotel people.’ ‘Can’t I give the little girl a bracelet?’ Prince Eugen gave a sinister laugh. Aribert looked at him steadily. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Why did you kiss her--that night?’ asked Prince Eugen carelessly. ‘Kiss whom?’ said Aribert, blushing and angry, despite his most determined efforts to keep calm and unconcerned. ‘The Racksole girl.’ ‘When do you mean?’ ‘I mean,’ said Prince Eugen, ‘that night in Ostend when I was ill. You thought I was in a delirium. Perhaps I was. But somehow I remember that with extraordinary distinctness. I remember raising my head for a fraction of an instant, and just in that fraction of an instant you kissed her. Oh, Uncle Aribert!’ ‘Listen, Eugen, for God’s sake. I love Nella Racksole. I shall marry her.’ ‘You!’ There was a long pause, and then Eugen laughed. ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘They all talk like that to start with. I have talked like that myself, dear uncle; it sounds nice, and it means nothing.’ ‘In this case it means everything, Eugen,’ said Aribert quietly. Some accent of determination in the latter’s tone made Eugen rather more serious. ‘You can’t marry her,’ he said. ‘The Emperor won’t permit a morganatic marriage.’ ‘The Emperor has nothing to do with the affair. I shall renounce my rights. I shall become a plain citizen.’