'The council?' cried Gondremark. 'Permit me, madam.' And he rose
and proceeded to flutter about the room, counterfeiting Otto both in
voice and gesture not unhappily. 'What is there to-day, Herr von
Gondremark? Ah, Herr Cancellarius, a new wig! You cannot deceive
me; I know every wig in Grunewald; I have the sovereign's eye. What
are these papers about? O, I see. O, certainly. Surely, surely.
I wager none of you remarked that wig. By all means. I know
nothing about that. Dear me, are there as many as all that? Well,
you can sign them; you have the procuration. You see, Herr
Cancellarius, I knew your wig. And so,' concluded Gondremark,
resuming his own voice, 'our sovereign, by the particular grace of
God, enlightens and supports his privy councillors.'

But when the Baron turned to Seraphina for approval, he found her
frozen. 'You are pleased to be witty, Herr von Gondremark,' she
said, 'and have perhaps forgotten where you are. But these
rehearsals are apt to be misleading. Your master, the Prince of
Grunewald, is sometimes more exacting.'

Gondremark cursed her in his soul. Of all injured vanities, that of
the reproved buffoon is the most savage; and when grave issues are
involved, these petty stabs become unbearable. But Gondremark was a
man of iron; he showed nothing; he did not even, like the common
trickster, retreat because he had presumed, but held to his point
bravely. 'Madam,' he said, 'if, as you say, he prove exacting, we
must take the bull by the horns.'

'We shall see,' she said, and she arranged her skirt like one about
to rise. Temper, scorn, disgust, all the more acrid feelings,