ped that his friend would be happy--happy in his own way,
whatever that might be.

At last, he summoned Vasili to him and called for his own particular
yellow wine--the Imperial Tokayi--and the old man filled the glasses. It
was too much for Verdayne--and all thoughts of Isabella were consigned
to eternal oblivion as he remembered the time when _he_ had sipped that
wine with his Queen in the little hotel on the Buergenstock.

She would have no cause for jealousy--his darling!

CHAPTER XIX

It was November when Sir Charles died, and Lady Henrietta betook herself
to her sister's for consolation, while Sir Paul and the Boy, with a
common impulse, departed for India.

They spent Christmas in Egypt, the winter months in the desert, and at
last spring came, with its remembrance of duties to be done. And to the
elder man England made its insistent call, as it always did in March.
For was it not in England, and in March, the tidings reached him that
unto him a son was born?

He must go back.

So at last, acting upon a pre-arrangement to which the young Prince had
not been a party, they made their way back to their own world of men and
women.

* * * * *

"Boy," said Sir Paul, one day, "the time has come when many questions
you have asked and wondered about are to be answered, as is your due. It
was your mother's wish that you should go, at the beginning of May,
alone, to Lucerne. There you will find letters awaiting you--from
her--from your Uncle Peter--yes, even from myself--telling you the whole
secret of your birth, the story of your inheritance."

"Why Lucerne, Father Paul?"

"It was your mother's wish--and mine!"

Then, with a rush of tenderness, the older man threw his arm around the
Boy's shoulders. "Boy," he said, "be charitable and lenient and
kind--whatever you read!"

"And what are you going to do, Father Paul? I have not quite two weeks
of freedom left, and I begrudge every day I am forced to spend away from
you. You will go with me to see me crowned--and married?"

"Certainly, Boy! You are to stay in Lucerne only until you are sure you
understand all the revelations of these letters, and their full import.
It may be a week--it may be a day--it may be but a few hours, but--I
can't go with you, and you must not ask me to! It is an experience you
must face alone. I will await you in Venice, Paul, and be sure that when
you want me, Boy, I will come!"

The Boy's