My solicitations with him were, I need not say, from the nature of the connection between us, generally pretty successful; and, in fact, the poor fellow could refuse me nothing:  as I used often laughingly to say to him, very little to his liking.  But I used more than threats, or the legitimate influence I had over him.  I used delicacy and generosity; as a proof of which, I may mention that I promised to give back to the Princess the family emerald, which I mentioned in the last chapter that I had won from her unprincipled admirer at play.

This was done by my uncle’s consent, and was one of the usual acts of prudence and foresight which distinguish that clever man.  “Press the matter now, Redmond my boy,” he would urge.  “This affair between her Highness and Magny must end ill for both of them, and that soon; and where will be your chance to win the Countess then?  Now is your time! win her and wear her before the month is over, and we will give up the punting business, and go live like noblemen at our castle in Swabia.  Get rid of that emerald, too,” he added:  “should an accident happen, it will be an ugly deposit found in our hand.”  This it was that made me agree to forego the possession of the trinket; which, I must confess, I was loth to part with.  It was lucky for us both that I did:  as you shall presently hear.

Meanwhile, then, I urged Magny:  I myself spoke strongly to the Countess of Liliengarten, who promised formally to back my claim with his Highness the reigning Duke; and Monsieur de Magny was instructed to induce the Princess Olivia to make a similar application to the old sovereign in my behalf.  It was done.  The two ladies urged the Prince; his Highness (at a supper of oysters and champagne) was brought to consent, and her Highness the Hereditary Princess did me the honour of notifying personally to the Countess Ida that it was the Prince’s will that she should marry the young Irish nobleman, the Chevalier Redmond de Balibari.  The notification was made in my presence; and though the young Countess said ‘Never!’ and fell down in a swoon at her lady’s feet, I was, you may be sure, entirely unconcerned at this little display of mawkish sensibility, and felt, indeed, now that my prize was secure.

That evening I gave the Chevalier de Magny the emerald, which he promised to restore to the Princess; and now the only difficulty in my way lay with the Hereditary Prince, of whom his father, his wife, and the favourite, were alike afraid.  He might not be disposed to allow the richest heiress in his duchy to be carried off by a noble, though not a wealthy foreigner.  Time was necessary in order to break the matter to Prince Victor.  The Princess must find him at some moment of good-humour.  He had days of infatuation still, when he could refuse his wife nothing; and our plan was to wait for one of these, or for any other chance which might occur.

But it was destined that the Princess should never see her husband at her feet, as often as he had been.  Fate was preparing a terrible ending to her follies, and my own hope.  In spite of his solemn promises to me, Magny never restored the emerald to the Princess Olivia.