It chanced that a brilliant autumn brought a season of great prosperity to the Thetian wine-growers and farmers, and the year of Ughtred’s accession to the throne seemed likely to be marked with a white stone in their annals. Never had a ruler been more popular with all classes. His military system, while it made no undue demands upon the people, provoked the admiration of Europe, and several important and successful industrial undertakings were due entirely to his instigation. Mr. Van Decht, fascinated by the climate, the primitive but delightful life, and a firm believer in the possibilities of the country, still lingered in the capital, and already the results of his large investments were beginning to be felt. Only a few people knew of the hidden danger which was ever brooding over the land—a danger which Ughtred had realized from the first, and which from the first he had set himself steadfastly to avert. A soldier himself, he knew something of the horrors of war. Nothing seemed to him more awful than the vision of this beautiful country blackened and devastated, her corn-fields soaked with blood, her pleasant pastoral life swept away in the grim struggle against an only partially-civilized enemy. He set himself passionately to work to strive for peace.

Reist came to him one evening straight from the House of Laws with a suggestion.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “the people are asking for a queen.”

Ughtred laughed.

“I’m sorry I can’t oblige them off-hand,” he answered.

“Has your Majesty never thought of an alliance through marriage with one of the Powers? Not a direct alliance, perhaps, but one which might be useful to us if the worst should come.”

Ughtred shook his head.

“A dream, my friend,” he answered. “There is only one country in the world who could help us, and I fear an English princess would be beyond our wildest dreams. Friendship with Russia is more to be dreaded than her open enmity. France has no royal family, and is bound up with Russia. Germany and Austria are tied.”

“Your marriage has been spoken of, sire,” Reist said slowly. “I have promised to convey to the House your views. A queen would be very popular.”

“I am not prepared at present to make any announcement upon the subject,” Ughtred answered.

“I should not hesitate at any sacrifice which the safety or benefit of Theos seemed to require. At present there is no question of anything of the sort.”

Reist bowed, and abandoned the subject. But late that night he sought his sister. She was sitting on the stone balcony which led from her own suite of rooms, her elbow upon the worn balustrade, her clear, beautiful face clouded with thought. For the first time Nicholas noticed a change in her. She was thinner, and there were dark lines under her eyes. A vague trouble was in her eyes.

“Marie,” he said, “you have not been to the palace lately.”

“No.”

“Tell me why.”

She turned slowly towards him.

“Need you ask! I hate that American girl. She is always there. She monopolizes everything. I wish to Heaven that she would go away.”

Reist came a little closer. His voice dropped.

“Has he spoken?”

“You know that he has not.”

The face of the man was stern and grey—even as the face of one musing upon evil things.

“To-night,” he said, “I gave him every opportunity. By all ancient laws and customs he is your betrothed—and he knows it. Yet he persists in this uncompromising silence. The difficulty remains only with himself.”

She drew nearer to him.

“It is an insult to our house,” she murmured. “I am glad that you have spoken to me of this, Nicholas. It is unbearable!”

“You are right,” he admitted. “You have been patient, Marie, and so have I. The time has come to end it.”

She laid her slender fingers upon his arm. Slenderer than ever they seemed to him now, and unbejewelled save for one great emerald set in dull gold which burned upon her fourth finger.

“What can you do, Nicholas? You know the meaning of it all. It is the coming of Sara Van Decht.”

He nodded thoughtfully.

“I myself,” he said, “have watched—and seen. But, Marie, the daughter of a tradesman, though he were rich enough to buy a kingdom, can never sit upon the throne of Theos.”

“He is masterful,” she said, “and I think that he cares for her. He will have his own way.”

Reist was wearing his uniform, for there had been a reception at the Austrian Minister’s. As though by accident he touched the hilt of his sword.

“Our honour is engaged, Marie,” he said. “You may safely leave all in my hands.”

“He is your King!” she reminded him, with a sidelong glance, as though anxious to watch the effect of her words.

“And I,” he answered, hotly, “am Nicholas, Duke of Reist. Since when, Marie, have the men of Tyrnaus reached a pinnacle when the Reists could not address them as equals? Our quarterings are more numerous, our House is more ancient than theirs. Ughtred of Tyrnaus must answer to me as would any other gentleman of his rank if the time should come when our honour demands it.”

“Those are brave words, my brother!” she said.

“You do not doubt me, Marie?”

She shook her head.

“I do not doubt you, Nicholas, only——”

“Well?”

“There was a time when the throne was yours, when the people would have shouted you King. You let it go by. You pointed there! Tell me, Nicholas, is it forever this waiting?”

Her forefinger was raised to that carved motto. Nicholas remained for a moment lost in thought.

“Marie,” he said, presently. “I will tell you the truth. I did not give Ughtred of Tyrnaus credit for such gifts as he has shown. I wanted the principle of monarchy reestablished, and it was best to revert to the royal house. Then I found that he was a better man than I had thought, and an alliance with you would have reconciled me to his reign. Now—I must admit—I am doubtful.”

She remained for a moment lost in thought. Had the time come when she might speak? He detested Domiloff and all his ways—at heart, too, the good of Theos was far dearer to him than any personal ambition.

“Nicholas, you say that you are doubtful. I have a feeling that before long the King will announce his intention of marrying Sara Van Decht. Will you remain even then his faithful servant?”

The scorn in her tone first stung, then moved him to wonder.

“You do not love the King, Marie!” he exclaimed.

“Love him! Nicholas, it is better that there should be now a clear understanding of things between us. I am a Countess of Reist, and I have been slighted by an adventurer—a man who but for you would even now have been living in poverty in a foreign land. I would not marry him though he begged me with tears in his eyes, to save his throne, to save his life.”

He walked restlessly up and down. His own pride had been wounded bitterly. Marie was right.

“I am willing,” she continued, “to endure this affront if it seems to you that your duty to Theos still bids you hold by the King! But there is one thing to which I will not submit. I will not bow the knee to this American girl if he should make her Queen. Nor in that case will I suffer you, Nicholas, to remain the King’s counsellor.”

“Nor will I!” he answered.

“Promise me one thing more, my brother!” she begged. “If again we should hear that cry ringing through the squares, promise me that you will not fail them. We have had enough of strangers in Theos. It is those who have lived here all their lives, to whom every stone of the place is dear, who should control her destinies.”

“I am the faithful servant of Ughtred of Tyrnaus,” he answered, slowly, “while he serves the State wisely and well. But if that should come to pass which we have spoken of, the evil must fall upon his own head. Listen!”

There was some commotion without. A servant threw open the door.

“His Majesty the King!”