“Your course, sir,” said Mr. Beckendorff, “lies that way. I see, like myself, you are no great talker. We shall meet at breakfast.” So saying, the Minister set spurs to his pony, and was soon out of sight. When Vivian reached the house, he found the bow window of the library thrown open, and as he approached he saw Mr. Beckendorff enter the room and bow to the prince. His Highness had passed a good night in spite of not sleeping in a bed, and he was at this moment commencing a delicious breakfast. His ill-humour had consequently vanished. He had made up his mind that Beckendorff was mad; and although he had given up all the secret and flattering hopes which he had dared to entertain when the interview was first arranged, he nevertheless did not regret his visit, which on the whole had been amusing, and had made him acquainted with the person and habits, and, as he believed, the intellectual powers of a man with whom, most probably, he should soon be engaged in open hostility. Vivian took his seat at the breakfast, table, and Beckendorff stood conversing with them with his back to the fireplace, and occasionally, during the pauses of conversation, pulling the strings of his violin with his fingers. It did not escape Vivian’s observation that the Minister was particularly courteous and even attentive to the Prince; and that he endeavoured by his quick and more communicative answers, and occasionally by a stray observation, to encourage the good humour visible on the cheerful countenance of his guest. “Have you been long up, Mr. Beckendorff?” asked the Prince; for his host had resumed his dressing-gown and slippers. “I generally see the sun rise.” “And yet you retire late! out riding last night, I understand?” “I never go to bed.” “Indeed!” said the Prince. “Well, for my part, without my regular rest I am nothing. Have you breakfasted, Mr. Beckendorff?” “Clara will bring my breakfast immediately.” The dame accordingly soon appeared, bearing a tray with a basin of boiling water and one large thick biscuit. This Mr. Beckendorff, having well soaked in the hot fluid, eagerly devoured; and then taking up his violin, amused himself until his guests had finished their breakfast. When Vivian had ended his meal he left the Prince and Beckendorff alone, determined that his presence should not be the occasion of the Minister any longer retarding the commencement of business. The Prince, who by a private glance had been prepared for his departure, immediately took the opportunity of asking Mr. Beckendorff, in a decisive tone, whether he might flatter himself that he could command his present attention to a subject of importance. Mr. Beckendorff said that he was always at Mr. von Philipson’s service; and drawing a chair opposite him, the Prince and Mr. Beckendorff now sat on each side of the fireplace.