“Ah!” said Deulin, lightly, “that is an old affair.  That happened when she used to ride upon my shoulder.  And one keeps a tenderness for one’s old loves, you know.”

“Well, and what do you propose to do?  I tell you honestly I have had no time to think of my own affairs.  I have had no courage to think of them, perhaps.  I have been at work all night.  Yes, yes!  I know!  Thin ice!  You ought to know it when you see it.  You have been on it all your life, and through it—­”

“Only once,” repeated Deulin.  “I propose what any other young lover would propose to do—­to run away with her from Warsaw.”

“When?”

Deulin looked at his watch.

“In half an hour.  Think of the risks, Bukaty—­a young girl.”

And he saw a sudden fierceness in the old man’s eyes.  The point was gained.

“I could take her to Cracow this evening.  Your sister there will take her in.”

“Yes, yes!  But will Wanda go?”

“If you tell her to go she will.  I think that is the only power on earth that can make her do it.”

The prince smiled.

“You seem to know her failings.  You are no lover, my friend.”

“That is a question in which we are both beyond our depth.  You will do this thing for me.  I come back in half an hour.”

“What about the passport, and the difficulties of getting away from Warsaw to-day?” asked the prince.  “What we know others must know now.”

“Leave those matters to me.  You can safely do so.  Please do not move.  I will find my way to the door, thank you.”

“If you see Wanda as you go,” called out the prince, as Deulin closed the door behind him, “send her to me.”

Deulin did see Wanda.  He had always intended to do so.  He went to the drawing-room and there found her, busy over some household books.  He held out beneath her eyes the telegram he had received that morning.

“A telegram,” she said, looking at it.  “But I cannot make out its meaning.  I never saw or heard of that word before.”

“Nevertheless the news it contains will stir the blood of men till the end of time,” answered Deulin, lightly.  “It is from a reliable source.  Cartoner sent it.  Upon that news your father is basing that which he wishes to say to you in his study now.”

“Ah!” said Wanda, with a ring of anxiety in her voice.

“It is nothing!” put in Deulin, quickly, at the sight of her face.  “Nothing that need disturb your thoughts or mine.  It is only a question of empires and kingdoms.”

With his light laugh, he turned away from her, and was gone before she could ask him a question.

In half an hour he returned.  He had a cab waiting at the door, and the passport difficulty had been overcome, he said.

“The man in the street,” he added, turning to the prince, sitting beside Wanda, who stood before the study fire in her furs, ready to go—­“the man in the street and the innumerable persons who carry swords in this city know nothing.”