Varvilliers bowed ready assent. Wetter's face twisted into a smile.
"I must plead excuse to the command," he said.
"Then you're a rascal, Wetter; I want you, man, and you ought not to be expected anywhere this time of night."
"Not at home, sire?"
"Home least of all," said Varvilliers, smiling.
"But I have guests at home," cried Wetter. "I've left them too long. But Her Royal Highness didn't invite them; besides it was necessary to practise the song."
"What? Are they with you?"
"Should I send them to a hotel, sire? My friends the Struboffs! No, no!"
Sipping my wine, I looked doubtfully from one to the other.
"The King," observed Wetter to Varvilliers, "would be interested in hearing a rehearsal of the song."
"But," said I, "Krak comes to-night, and I daren't look as if I'd sat up beyond my hour."
Wetter laid his ringer on my arm.
"One more night," he said. Varvilliers laughed. "I have the same old servant. He's very discreet!"
"But you'll put it in the Vorwärts!"
"No, no, not if the meeting-place is my own house."
"I'll do it!" I cried. "Come, let's have a carriage."
"Mine waits," said Varvilliers, "at your disposal. I'll see about it," and off he ran. Wetter turned to me.
"An interesting quartette there in the recess," said he.
