“So he will. Well, Prince, I will try your plan for three months--not a day longer. That ought to be proof enough for any girl of a man’s sincerity. Don’t you think you have reason to be grateful to Roburoff? I should be if I hadn’t paid him in full. Oblige me by looking at this.” He held out a folded paper, which Prince Mirkovics received doubtfully, and read with astonishment. It was a promise on the part of the King to pay Captain Roburoff a sum of money which to the frugal mind of the Thracian appeared colossal. “What is this, sir?” he asked, bewildered. “Princesses are expensive wives for commoners,” returned King Michael calmly, “and Roburoff had no intention of marrying Lida on a captain’s pay. I was obliged to make it worth his while.” “Impossible, sir! You arranged the elopement with your equerry?” “Oh no, not at all. I discovered that he was in love with her through his dropping a note of hers when we were fencing one day. After we had teased him about it a little, it occurred to me that since he had gone so far for his own pleasure, he might as well make himself useful. It was very hard to convince him, for he was quite contented to let things go on as they were, and I had to point out that the prospect for the future was not exactly to my taste. At last we came to terms, and I despatched him on a special mission, giving him credentials that would carry him anywhere (of course never dreaming of the use he would make of them), and this is the way he repays my confidence! Don’t you think we are well rid of him?” Too much disgusted to speak, Prince Mirkovics bowed in answer. The King laughed. “Come, Prince, I must drink one last toast before I become a total abstainer, and you will join me in it with all your heart.” He touched the bell. “Bring a bottle of champagne,” he said to the servant who answered his summons. “Fill the glasses, Prince. To Queen Philippa!” “To her Majesty Queen Philippa!” repeated Prince Mirkovics gravely, touching the glass which the King held out with his own.