I
accuse him of the deliberate and criminal use of that knowledge to
take King Otho from his throne!"
St. George hardly knew what effect his words had. He saw only
Olivia, her hands locked, her lips parted, looking in his face in
anguish; and he saw Prince Tabnit smile. Prince Tabnit sat upon the
king's left hand, and he leaned and whispered a smiling word in the
ear of his sovereign and turned a smiling face to Olivia upon her
father's right.
"I know something of your American newspapers, your Majesty," the
prince said aloud, "and these men are doing their part excellently,
excellently."
"What do you mean, your Highness?" demanded St. George curtly.
"But is it not simple?" asked the prince, still smiling. "You have
contrived a sensation for the great American newspaper. No one can
doubt."
King Otho leaned back in the beetling throne.
"Ah, yes," he said, "it is true. Something has been contrived.
But--is the sensation of _his_ contriving, Prince?"
Olivia stood silent. It was not possible, it was not possible, she
said over mechanically.
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