THE SOUND OF A TRUMPET
a better partner than some stranger, to whom he must go cap in hand, to whom his country would be a place of exile and his counrtymen seem half-barbarians, whose life with him would be one long tale of forced and unwilling condescension? A pride more subtle than his father's rose in revolt.
If he could make the King see that! There stood the difficulty. Right in the way of his darling hope was the one thing on which the King insisted. The pride of family—the great alliance—the single point whereon the easy King was an obstacle so formidable! Yet had he despaired, he would have been no such lover as he was.
His answer had gone to the King; there was no news of its reception yet. But on the next day, in the evening, great tidings came from Slavna, forwarded by Zerkovitch, who was in charge of the Prince's affairs there. The Prince burst eagerly into the dining-room in the tower of Praslok, where Sophy sat alone. He seemed full of triumphant excitement, almost boyish in his glee. It is at such moments that hesitations are forgotten and the last reserves broken down.
"My guns!" he cried. "My guns! They've started on their way. They're due in Slavna in a month!"
"In a month!" she murmured softly. "Ah, then—"
"Our company will be ready, too. We'll march down to Slavna and meet the guns!" He laughed.
"Oh, I'll be very pleasant to Slavna now—just as you advise me. We'll meet them with smiles on our faces." He came up to her and laid his hand on hers. "You've done this for me," he said, smiling still, yet growing more grave.
"It'll be the end of this wonderful time, of this our time together!"
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