usin. Anything
that need be said between us is better said before a witness,' replied
the Duke. 'How do you suppose he will take the news of our agreement
with England?'

Selpdorf's answer was slow in coming, and before he spoke Count Sagan
strode into the room. He carried a sheaf of papers; his imperious temper
was wont to rush every business through to which he put his hand.

'I begged for a few moments in private with your Highness,' he said,
with a glance at the Minister.

'Our good Selpdorf is too discreet to be considered a third,' answered
the Duke blandly. 'He knows our secrets without being told them. Pray
proceed, my lord; is there anything I can do for you?'

'Yes, sire; I wish to lay before you the matter I was forced to postpone
at the Castle. I also made use of the opportunity to bring one or two
papers relating to the Guard for signature.'

The Duke took the papers. He was seated at a writing-table, and he
glanced carelessly over them as Sagan went on.

'Under your approval those papers include Lieutenant Unziar's
appointment as captain, vice Colendorp----'

'Deceased,' put in the Duke with a sharp significance.

Sagan frowned. Gustave had a curious alertness about him to-night.

'Yes, poor fellow! We can ill spare him,' he said. 'Also we have agreed
to propose Abenfeldt as junior subaltern.'

'I have no objection,' the Duke said.

'As for the other subject upon which I have for some time wished to
speak to you, sire, I am authorised to lay before your Highness certain
proposals--'

'Stop, my lord,' again interrupted the Duke, 'if those proposals have
any reference to von Elmur and his projects for the good of the State, I
absolutely decline to hear them. What's this?' he had laid aside the
upper papers after signature, and was scanning the one below with an
expression of countenance which showed that he liked what he read very
little.

Sagan watched him with a deepening frown, the more subtle Selpdorf with
curiosity. At other times it had been the Duke's custom to add his
signature to papers without a glance at their contents. The destiny of
one man is thus often decided by the passing mood of another.

'What's this about Rallywood?'

'A bad business, but your Highness's signature makes many a wrong
right,' said Sagan, with a clumsy attempt at pleasantry; 'it needs only
that. You have the pen and ink, sire.'

'But, by Heaven, not the will!' cried the Duke. 'I will not sign it! And
if