ce was gray.

"All this," he said, "means what? To make the boy a prisoner, to cut off
his few pleasures, and even then, at any time--"

"Yes, sire," said Mettlich doggedly. "At any time."

Outside in the anteroom Lieutenant Nikky Larisch roused himself, yawned,
and looked at his watch. It was after twelve, and he had had a hard day.
He put a velvet cushion behind his head, and resolutely composed himself
to slumber, a slumber in which were various rosy dreams, all centered
about the Princess Hedwig. Dreams are beyond our control.

Therefore a young lieutenant running into debt on his pay may without
presumption dream of a princess.

All through the Palace people were sleeping. Prince Ferdinand William
Otto was asleep, and riding again the little car in the Land of Delight.
So that, turning a corner sharply, he almost fell out of bed.

On the other side of the city the little American boy was asleep also.
At that exact time he was being tucked up by an entirely efficient and
placid-eyed American mother, who felt under his head to see that his ear
was not turned forward. She liked close-fitting ears.

Nobody, naturally, was tucking up Prince Ferdinand William Otto. Or
attending to his ears. But, of course, there were sentries outside his
door, and a valet de chambre to be rung for, and a number of embroidered
eagles scattered about on the curtains and things, and a country
surrounding him which would one day be his, unless--

"At any time," said General Mettlich, and was grimly silent.

It was really no time for such a speech. But there is never a good time
for bad news.

"Well?" inquired the King, after a time. "You have something to suggest,
I take it."

The old soldier cleared his throat. "Sire," he began, "it is said that
a chancellor should have but one passion--his King. I have two: my King
and my country."

The King nodded gravely. He knew both passions, relied on both. And
found them both a bit troublesome at times!

"Once, some years ago, sire, I came to you with a plan. The Princess
Hedwig was a child then, and his late Royal Highness was--still with
us. For that, and for other reasons, Your Majesty refused to listen.
But things have changed. Between us and revolution there stand only the
frail life of a boy and an army none too large, and already, perhaps,
affected. There is much discontent, and the offspring of discontent is
anarchy."

The King snarled. But Mettlich had taken his courage in h