“My lords,” she said, summoning all her strength of mind and heart, “I am gratified to find you so ready to respond to the call of your whimsical sovereign.  Yesterday you came with hearts bowed down and in deepest woe.  To-day I assemble you here that I may ask your advice concerning the events of that strange day.  Bolaroz will do as he has promised.  We are to have the extension papers this afternoon, and Graustark may breathe again the strong, deep breath of hope.  You well remember my attitude on yesterday.  You were shocked, horrified, amazed by my seemingly ignoble effort to preserve my preserver’s life.  We will pass over that, however.  It is to discuss my position that I have called you here.  To begin, I would have sacrificed my kingdom, as you know, to save him.  He was innocent and I loved him.  If, on yesterday, I would not let my kingdom stand between me and my love, I cannot do so to-day.  I have called you here to tell you, my lords, that I have promised to become the wife of the man who would have given his life for you and for me—­that I love as a woman, not as a Princess.”

The silence of death stole into the room.  Every man’s eyes were glued upon the white face of the Princess and none could break the spell.  They had expected it, yet the shock was overwhelming; they had feared it, yet the announcement stupefied them.  She looked straight before her, afraid to meet the eyes of her subjects, knowing that sickening disapproval dwelt in them.  Not a word was uttered for many seconds.  Then old Caspar’s tense muscles relaxed and his arms dropped limply from their crossed position on his breast.

“My child, my child!” he cried, lifelessly.  “You cannot do this thing!”

“But the people?” cried Gaspon, his eyes gleaming.  “You cannot act against the will of the people.  Our laws, natural and otherwise. proscribe the very act you have in mind.  The American cannot go upon our throne; no man, unless he be of royal blood, can share it with you.  If you marry him the laws of our land—­you know them well—­will prohibit us from recognizing the marriage.”

Knowing that, my lords, I have come to ask you to revise our laws.  My throne will not be disgraced by the man I would have share it with me.”  She spoke as calmly as if she were making the most trivial request instead of asking her ministers to overthrow and undo the laws and customs of ages and of dynasties.

“The law of nature cannot be changed,” muttered Caspar, as if to himself.

“In the event that the custom cannot be changed, I shall be compelled to relinquish my right to occupy the throne and to depart from among you.  It would break my heart, my lords, to resort to this monstrous sacrifice, but I love one man first, my crown and my people after him.”

“You would not leave us—­you would not throw aside as despised the crown your ancestors wore for centuries?” cried Gaspon.  “Is your Royal Highness mad?”