ria, whom he knew slightly, when keen
eyes curtained with furled and wrinkled lids, glanced up from the
letter.

"It's coming," thought Egon. "What can the old chap have found out?"

But to his surprise the Chancellor's first words had no connection
with him or his misdeeds.

"So our Emperor is amusing himself at Lyndalberg?"

Egon's face brightened. He could be cunning in emergencies, but he was
not clever, and always he felt himself at a disadvantage with the old
statesman. Unless he had a special favor to ask, he generally
preferred discussing the affairs of others with the Chancellor, rather
than allowing attention to be attracted to his own. "Oh yes," he
answered, brightly. "His Majesty is amusing himself uncommonly well. I
never saw him in as brilliant spirits. But you, dear Lorenz. Tell me
about yourself. Is your gout--"

"The devil take my gout!"

Egon started. "A good thing if he did, provided he left you behind,"
he retorted, meaning exactly the opposite, as he often did when trying
to measure wits with the Chancellor. "But you sent for me--"

"Don't tell me you supposed I sent for you because I wanted
consolation or condolence?"

"No-o," laughed Egon, uneasily. "I fancied there was some other more
pressing reason. But I'm bound in common courtesy to take your
sincerity for granted until you undeceive me."

"Hang common courtesy between you and me," returned the Bear. "I've
nothing to conceal. I sent for you to tell me what mischief that
witch-cat Mechtilde von Lyndal is plotting. You're on the spot. Trust
you for seeing everything that goes on--the one thing I would trust
you to do."

"Thanks," said Egon.

"Don't thank me yet, however grateful you may be. But I don't mind
hinting that it won't be the worse for you, if for once you've used
those fine eyes of yours to some useful purpose."

Egon was genuinely astonished at this turn of the conversation, as he
had been carefully arming himself against a personal attack from any
one of several directions. He sat pointing the sharp ends of his
mustache, one after the other, and trying to remember some striking
incident with which to adorn a more or less accurate narrative.

"What would you call useful?" he inquired at last.

The Chancellor answered, but indirectly. "Has the Emperor been playing
the fool at Lyndalberg, these last few days?"

"Do you want to make me guilty of _lese Majeste_?" Egon raised his
eyebrows; but he was recovering presen