“I think her Royal Highness will receive me,” he answered calmly, wishing he was as sure of the fact as he pretended to be. No one knew better than he did that he was making a hazardous stroke. If it failed, his old enemy would have scored a point. But his confident air impressed the servants sufficiently to induce them to carry his name to the Princess, and her reception of it established him in their respect. Princess Ottilie was beginning to be anxious about the fulfilment of her compact with Prince Soudaroff. Two days had passed since his visit, and she had made no progress towards securing the coveted governorship for her son. Worse than this, there seemed to be no means even of sounding Cyril upon the subject, unless she went so far as to make direct advances, such as he would probably take delight in repulsing. Not knowing that she had become necessary to his schemes, she had never dared to hope that the first overtures would come from him, and the announcement that he asked to see her was music in her ears. She gave orders that he should be admitted at once, and when he was ushered into her boudoir he found her standing beside the table to receive him, a majestic figure in her sweeping black robes. Why was it that Cyril’s heart flew straightway to another woman who had worn similar weeds, which, so far from enhancing such beauty as she possessed, had only served to accentuate the slenderness of her form and deprive her of every vestige of colour? The Princess of Dardania looked more magnificent even than of old, the severity of the garb exhibiting her stately stature to the fullest advantage. “A year ago,” she said, “I should have hesitated to receive Count Mortimer, fearing that he came as an enemy; but now”--her eyes strayed to the large portrait of her late husband which stood upon the table--“I cannot believe that he would seek my presence with the desire of adding to my misfortunes.” “Indeed, madame, my sole reason for entreating an audience is the double hope of doing you a service and of obtaining a favour from you.” “Tell me the last first, Count, that I may at any rate have the pleasure of granting it.” “It grows out of the first, madame, and I will therefore ask permission to defer it for a moment. Your Royal Highness will recollect that when we last met I had the misfortune to differ from you with regard to the affairs of Thracia?” The Princess remembered Prince Soudaroff’s hint, and trembled in spite of herself. Had her old enemy come to announce the downfall of her dearest hopes? She inclined her head slightly in answer to the question, but said nothing. “You favoured a certain policy, madame, which I opposed. Your advice prevailed. I bowed to circumstances, and quitted Thracia. I have now no wish to disturb the settlement then arrived at, although I think your Royal Highness will perceive presently that I could easily do so.” “I don’t understand you, Count. Pray do not speak in riddles.”