Has your highness any other orders for me?"
"No, you old boor!" cried the prince, half amused, half angry. "Go on,
now; we don't need any sermon on morals."
Stadinger obeyed, he bowed low and marched off. Rojanow glanced after
him and shrugged his shoulders with a sneer.
"I admire your forbearance, Egon; you certainly permit your servants to
speak very freely--"
"Oh, Stadinger is an exception," declared Egon. "Of late days he has
allowed himself great latitude, but as to his sending Zena away he
wasn't far wrong. I'd have done the same thing in his place."
"It isn't the first time the old fellow has made so bold as to call us
both to account. If I were his master--he'd get his dismissal in this
same hour."
"I'm afraid if I attempted that, it would be all the worse for me,"
laughed the prince. "Such an old heir-loom, who has served three
generations already, and trotted me on his knee as a baby, deserves to
be treated with respect. I would gain nothing by commanding and calling
him to account. Peter Stadinger does what he pleases, and whenever it
suits him, reads me a little text into the bargain."
"How you can permit such liberties is incomprehensible."
"It is natural that you should not understand it, Hartmut," said his
friend, earnestly. "You only know the submissiveness of Sclavish
servants in your own home, and in the Orient.
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