’I feared that your Highness entertained what I find to be a very general, perhaps here and there wilful, error with regard to England.’

’When I was in the service I had a comrade, a gallant gentleman, deeply beloved by me, and he was an Englishman.  He died in the uniform and under the flag I reverence.’

’I rejoice that your Highness has had this experience of us.  I have to imagine that I expressed myself badly.  My English training certainly does not preclude the respect due to exalted rank.  Your Highness will, I trust humbly, pardon my offence.  I do not excuse myself because I cannot withdraw, and I am incapable of saying that I regret it.’

‘In cool blood you utter that?’ exclaimed the prince.

His amazement was unfeigned.

’What are the impossible, monstrous ideas you—­where—?  Who leads you to fancy there is one earthly chance for you when you say you cannot withdraw?  Cannot?  Are you requested?  Are you consulted?  It is a question to be decided in the imperative:  you must.  What wheel it is you think you have sufficient vigour to stop, I am profoundly unaware, but I am prepared to affirm that it is not the wheel of my household.  I would declare it, were I a plain citizen.  You are a nullity in the case, in point of your individual will—­a nullity swept away with one wave of the hand.  You can do this, and nothing else:  you can apologize, recognize your station, repair a degree of mischief that I will not say was preconceived or plotted.  So for awhile pursue your studies, your travels.  In time it will give me pleasure to receive you.  Mr. Richmond,’ he added, smiling and rising; ’even the head of a little German principality has to give numberless audiences.’  His features took a more cordial smile to convince me that the dismissing sentence was merely playful.

As for me, my mind was confused by the visible fact that the father’s features resembled the daughter’s.  I mention it, that my mind’s condition may be understood.

Hardly had I been bowed out of the room when my father embraced me, and some minutes later I heard Prince Otto talking to me and demanding answers.  That he or any one else should have hostile sentiments toward a poor devil like me seemed strange.  My gift of the horse appeared to anger him most.  I reached the chateau without once looking back, a dispirited wretch.  I shut myself up; I tried to read.  The singular brevity of my interview with the prince, from which I had expected great if not favourable issues, affected me as though I had been struck by a cannon shot; my brains were nowhere.  His perfect courtesy was confounding.  I was tormented by the delusion that I had behaved pusillanimously.