He paused, gathering her a little closer into his arms.

“Everything is settled.  Russia has helped, and Ruvania is ready to welcome Nadine’s return. . . .  She is in Paris, now, waiting for me to take her there. . . .  It has been a long and difficult matter, and the responsibility of Nadine’s well-being in England has been immense.  A year ago, the truth as to her identity leaked out somehow—­reached our enemies’ ears, and since then I’ve never really known an instant’s peace concerning her safety.  You remember the attack which was made on her outside the theatre?”

Diana nodded, shame-faced, remembering its ultimate outcome.

“Well, the man who shot at her was in the pay of the Republic—­German pay, actually.  That yarn about the actor down on his luck was cooked up for the papers, just to throw dust in the eyes of the public. . . .  To watch over Nadine’s safety has been my work.  Now the time has come when she can go back and take her place as Grand Duchess of Ruvania. And I must go with her.”

“No, no.  Why need you go?  You’ll have done your work, set her securely on the throne.  Ah, Max! don’t speak of going, dear.”  Her voice shook incontrollably.

“There is other work still to be done, beloved—­harder work, man’s work.  And I can’t turn away and take my shoulder from the wheel.  It needs no great foresight to tell that there is trouble brewing on the Continent; a very little thing would set the whole of Europe in a blaze.  And when that time arrives, if Ruvania is to come out of the struggle with her independence unimpaired, it will only be by the utmost effort of all her sons.  Nadine cannot stand alone.  What can a woman do unaided when the nations are fighting for supremacy?  The country will need a man at the helm, and I must stand by Nadine.”

“But why you?  Why not another?”

“No other is under the same compulsion as I. As you know, my father put his wife first and his country second.  It is difficult to blame him . . . she was very beautiful, my mother.  But no man has the right to turn away from his allotted task.  And because my father did that, the call to me to serve my country is doubly strong.  I have to pay back that of which he robbed her.”

“And have I no claim?  Max!  Max!  Doesn’t your love count at all?”

The sad, grieving words wrung his heart.

“Why, yes,” he said unsteadily.  “That’s the biggest thing in the world—­our love—­isn’t it?  But this other is a debt of honour, and you wouldn’t want me to shirk that, would you, sweet?  I must pay—­even if it costs me my happiness. . . .  It may seem to you as though I’d set your happiness, too, aside.  God knows, it hasn’t been easy!  But what could I do?  I conceive that a man’s honour stands before everything.  That was why I let you believe—­what you did.  My word was given.  I couldn’t clear myself. . . .  So you see, now, beloved, why we must part.”