Outside, Nikky Larisch rose, stretched, and fell to pacing the
floor. It was one o'clock, and the palace slept. He lighted a
cigarette, and stepping out into a small balcony which overlooked
the Square, faced the quiet night.

"That is my plea, sire," Mettlich finished. "Karl of Karnia is
anxious to marry, and looks this way. To allay discontent and
growing insurrection, to insure the boy's safety and his throne,
to beat our swords into ploughshares" - here he caught the King's
scowl; and added - "to a certain extent, and to make us a
commercial as well as a military nation, surely, sire, it gains
much for us, and loses us nothing."

"But our independence!" said the King sourly.

However, he did not dismiss the idea. The fright of the
afternoon had weakened him, and if Mettlich were right - he had
what the King considered a perfectly damnable habit of being
right - the Royalist party would need outside help to maintain
the throne.

"Karnia!" he said. "The lion and the lamb, with the lamb inside
the lion! And in, the mean time the boy - "

"He should be watched always."

"The old she-dragon, the governess - I suppose she is
trustworthy?"

"Perfectly. But she is a woman."