“And delivered by his Ambassador,” I supplemented.

“The same.  Hugo, too, seems to have kept a journal.”

“He kept the letter itself, and a copy of his answer,” I added.

The King laughed.  “Altogether, Hugo must have been a rare fine fellow, with a mind of his own.”

“He was a son of Henry the Third,” I answered.

The King nodded.  “Yet ’twas a pity he did not accept Frederick’s offer.”

“I fancy the new life was more to his mind.”

“Doubtless,—­but, had he returned, it would be you and not Ferdinand of Lotzen who would be the Heir Presumptive of Valeria.”

I smiled.  “Had he returned I would not be I.”

“True enough,” said he.  “But think of the crown of your ancestors that might be yours.”

“It is enough to be a Dalberg.  I have never thought of the crown,” I answered.

“There spoke the son of Hugo,” he said.

Then, suddenly, he seemed to remember that we were not alone, and, springing up, he sought out Courtney, who, though unable to get out of ear-shot, had courteously retired to the remotest corner of the room.

“My dear Courtney,” he exclaimed.  “I have been unpardonably rude.  I forgot you completely.  Yet, you brought it on yourself; you should have prepared me for my cousin.”

But Courtney had his part to play.  He must keep the American Ambassador free from fault.

“Major Dalberg never disclosed his relationship to your Majesty,” he said, formally; “else, as you are well aware, he could not have been given the detail without your express permission.  As it is, I shall be obliged to report the matter to my Government and——­”

“Do so, by all means, if it will keep your records clear,” the King cut in, in the same formal tone; “but be careful, at the same time, to say to your State Department that we shall deem it a personal affront if our Kinsman be recalled.  And, now, sir,” he went on with an amused smile and dropping the conventional air, “confess it.  Didn’t you suspect the relationship?”

“I have been a guest at the Court of Valeria too often not to have noted a certain resemblance,” Courtney admitted readily.  Then, like a good fellow, he set me right.  “But, be assured, Your Majesty, not I nor I believe anyone, has ever heard Major Dalberg speak of his royal descent; though I admit I have tried hard to draw him to it.”

The King looked at me and nodded in approval.

“It is a law of the family, laid down by Hugo himself,” I explained.  “Though, of course, our silence does not prevent anyone from proving the fact who investigates our genealogy,” and I glanced significantly at Courtney.

This time it was he who doubled his fist at me.

Then a door behind me opened and I heard the trail of a gown—­whose, it was easy to guess.  Only one woman could have the privilege of entering the King’s presence unbidden.