SOPHY OF KRAVONIA
think you would report your discreet conduct to your superiors, Captain. Orders are orders, secrecy is secrecy, even though it turns out that there was no need for it."
Markart was about to reply with a joke when the Prince entered. He greeted both cordially, showing, of course, in Markart's presence, no surprise at Zerkovitch's arrival.
"There will be rooms and food and wine ready for you, gentlemen, in a few minutes. Captain Markart, you must rest here for to-night, for your horse's sake as well as your own. I suppose your business will wait till the morning?"
"My orders were to lose not a moment in communicating it to you, sir."
"Very well. You're from his Majesty?"
"Yes, sir."
"The King comes first—and I dare say your affair will wait, Zerkovitch?"
Zerkovitch protested with an eagerness by no means discreet in the presence of a third party an aide-de-camp to Stenovics!—"No, sir, no—it can't wait an—"
The Prince interrupted. "Nonsense, man, nonsense! Now go to your room. I'll come in and bid you 'Good -night.'" He pushed his over -zealous friend from the room, calling to Peter Vassip to guide him to the apartment he was to occupy. Then he came back to Markart. "Now, Captain!"
Markart took out his letter and presented it with a salute. " Sit down while I read it," said the Prince, seating himself at the table.
The Prince read his letter, and sat playing with it in his fingers for half a minute or so. Then a thought seemed to strike him. "Heavens, I never told Peter
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