THE BLENTZ princess frowned down upon the king and impostor impartially from her great gilt frame. It must have been close to midnight that the painting moved--just a frac-tion of an inch. Then it remained motionless for a time.
Again it moved. This time it revealed a narrow crack at its edge. In the crack an eye shone.
One of the sleepers moved. He opened his eyes. Stealthily he raised himself on his elbow and gazed at the other across the apartment. He listened intently. The regular breathing of the sleeper proclaimed the soundness of his slumber. Gin-gerly the man placed one foot upon the floor. The eye glued to the crack at the edge of the great, gilt frame of the Blentz princess remained fastened upon him. He let his other foot slip to the floor beside the first. Carefully he raised himself until he stood erect upon the floor. Then, on tiptoe he started across the room.
The eye in the dark followed him. The man reached the side of the sleeper. Bending over he listened intently to the other's breathing. Satisfied that slumber was profound he stepped quickly to a wardrobe in which a soldier had hung the clothing of both the king and the American. He took down the uniform of the former, casting from time to time apprehensive glances toward the sleeper. The latter did not stir, and the other passed to the little dressing-room adjoin-ing.
A few minutes later he reentered the apartment fully clothed and wearing the accouterments of Leopold of Lutha.
In his hand was a drawn sword. Silently and swiftly he crossed to the side of the sleeping man. The eye at the crack beside the gilded frame pressed closer to the aperture. The sword was raised above the body of the slumberer--its point hovered above his heart. The face of the man who wielded it was hard with firm resolve.
His muscles tensed to drive home the blade, but some-thing held his hand. His face paled. His shoulders con-tracted with a little shudder, and he turned toward the door of the apartment, almost running across the floor in his anxiety to escape. The eye in the dark maintained its un-blinking vigilance.
With his hand upon the knob a sudden thought stayed the fugitive's flight. He glanced quickly back at the sleeper --he had not moved. Then the man who wore the uniform of the king of Lutha recrossed the apartment to the bed, reached beneath one of the pillows and withdrew two neatly folded official-looking documents. These he placed in the breastpocket of his uniform. A moment later he was walk-ing down the spiral stairway to the main floor of the castle.
In the guardroom the troopers of the Royal Horse who were not on guard were stretched in slumber. Only a cor-poral remained awake. As the man entered the guardroom the corporal glanced up, and as his eyes fell upon the new-comer, he sprang to his feet, saluting.
"Turn out the guard!" he cried. "Turn out the guard for his majesty, the king!"The sleeping soldiers, but half awake, scrambled to their feet, their muscles reacting to the command that their brains but half perceived. They snatched their guns from the racks and formed a line behind the corporal. The king raised his fingers to the vizor of his helmet in acknowledgment of their salute.
"Saddle up quietly, corporal," he said. "We shall ride to Lustadt tonight."The non-commissioned officer saluted. "And an extra horse for Herr Custer?" he said.
The king shook his head. "The man died of his wound about an hour ago," he said. "While you are saddling up Ishall arrange with some of the Blentz servants for his burial --now hurry!"The corporal marched his troopers from the guardroom toward the stables. The man in the king's clothes touched a bell which was obviously a servant call. He waited impa-tiently a reply to his summons, tapping his finger-tips against the sword-scabbard that was belted to his side. At last a sleepy-eyed man responded--a man who had grown gray in the service of Peter of Blentz. At sight of the king he opened his eyes in astonishment, pulled his foretop, and bowed uneasily.
"Come closer," whispered the king. The man did so, and the king spoke in his ear earnestly, but in scarce audible tones. The eyes of the listener narrowed to mere slits--of avarice and cunning, cruelly cold and calculating. The speak-er searched through the pockets of the king's clothes that covered him. At last he withdrew a roll of bills. The amount must have been a large one, but he did not stop to count it.
He held the money under the eyes of the servant. The fel-low's claw-like fingers reached for the tempting wealth. He nodded his head affirmatively.
"You may trust me, sire," he whispered.
The king slipped the money into the other's palm. "And as much more," he said, "when I receive proof that my wishes have been fulfilled.""Thank you, sire," said the servant.
The king looked steadily into the other's face before he spoke again.
"And if you fail me," he said, "may God have mercy on your soul." Then he wheeled and left the guardroom, walk-ing out into the courtyard where the soldiers were busy saddling their mounts.
A few minutes later the party clattered over the draw-bridge and down the road toward Blentz and Lustadt. From a window of the apartments of Peter of Blentz a man watched them depart. When they passed across a strip of moonlit road, and he had counted them, he smiled with re-lief.
A moment later he entered a panel beside the huge fire-place in the west wall and disappeared. There he struck a match, found a candle and lighted it. Walking a few steps he came to a figure sleeping upon a pile of clothing. He stooped and shook the sleeper by the shoulder.
"Wake up!" he cried in a subdued voice. "Wake up, Prince Peter; I have good news for you."The other opened his eyes, stretched, and at last sat up.
"What is it, Maenck?" he asked querulously.
"Great news, my prince," replied the other.
