"I do not call it so, Humphry"--said the King--"To the best of my
knowledge, your conduct has always been most exemplary. But with all
your excessive decorum, you are mysterious. That is bad! Society will
not endure being kept in the dark, or outside the door of things, like
a bad child! It wants to be in the room, and know everything and
everybody. And this reminds me of another point on which the good
English James offers sound advice. 'Remember to be plaine and sensible
in your language; for besides, it is the tongue's office to be the
messenger of the mind, it may be thought a point of imbecilitie of
spirit, in a king to speak obscurely, much more untrewly, as if he
stood in awe of any in uttering his thoughts.' That is precisely your
mood at the present moment, Humphry,--you stand 'in awe'--of me or of
someone else,--in 'uttering your thoughts.'"

"Pardon me, Sir,--I do not stand in awe of you or of anyone;" said the
Prince composedly--"I simply do not choose to 'utter my thoughts' just
now."

The King looked at him in surprise, and with a touch of admiration. The
defiant air he had unconsciously assumed became him,--his handsome face
was pale, and his dark eyes coldly brilliant, like those of his
beautiful mother, with the steel light of an inflexible resolve.

"You do not choose?" said the King, after a pause--"You decline to give
any explanation of your long hours of absence?--your constant visits to
The Islands, and your neglect of those social duties which should keep
you at Court?"

"I decline to do so for the present," replied the young man decisively;
"I can see no harm in my preference for quietness rather than noise,--