I dared not wait, for I feared that the King
would die.
When the fellow was gone, I called Sapt and Fritz to me, and unfolded
the plan that I had formed. Sapt shook his head over it.
"Why can't you wait?" he asked.
"The King may die."
"Michael will be forced to act before that."
"Then," said I, "the King may live."
"Well, and if he does?"
"For a fortnight?" I asked simply.
And Sapt bit his moustache.
Suddenly Fritz von Tarlenheim laid his hand on my shoulder.
"Let us go and make the attempt," said he.
"I mean you to go--don't be afraid," said I.
"Ay, but do you stay here, and take care of the princess."
A gleam came into old Sapt's eye.
"We should have Michael one way or the other then," he chuckled;
"whereas if you go and are killed with the King, what will become of
those of us who are left?"
"They will serve Queen Flavia," said I, "and I would to God I could be
one of them."
A pause followed. Old Sapt broke it by saying sadly, yet with an unmeant
drollery that set Fritz and me laughing:
"Why didn't old Rudolf the Third marry your--great-grandmother, was it?"
"Come," said I, "it is the King we are thinking about."
"It is true," said Fritz.
"Moreover," I went on, "I have been an impostor for the profit of
another, but I will not be one for my own; and if the King is not alive
and on his throne before the day of betrothal comes, I will tell the
truth, come what may.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166