The Mad King [118]
No one would doubt his identity. Even Peter of Blentz had not recognized the real king despite Leopold's repeated and hysterical claims.
Lieutenant Butzow, the American's best friend, had no more suspected the exchange of identities. Von der Tann, too, must have been deceived. Everyone had been deceived. There was no hope that the people, who really saw so little of their king, would guess the deception that was being played upon them. Leopold groaned. Barney opened his eyes and turned toward him.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"I will sign the release and the sanction of her highness' marriage to you," said the king.
"Good!" exclaimed the American. "You will then go at once to Brosnov as originally planned. I will return to Lus- tadt and get her highness, and we will immediately leave Lutha via Brosnov. There you and I will effect a change of raiment, and you will ride back to Lustadt with the small guard that accompanies her highness and me to the frontier."
"Why do you not remain in Lustadt?" asked the king. "You could as well be married there as elsewhere."
"Because I don't trust your majesty," replied the American. "It must be done precisely as I say or not at all. Are you agreeable?"
The king assented with a grumpy nod.
"Then get up and write as I dictate," said Barney. Leo- pold of Lutha did as he was bid. The result was two short, crisply worded documents. At the bottom of each was the signature of Leopold of Lutha. Barney took the two papers and carefully tucked them beneath his pillow.
"Now let's sleep," he said. "It is getting late and we both need the rest. In the morning we have long rides ahead of us. Good night."
The king did not respond. In a short time Barney was fast asleep. The light still burned.
XIV
"THE KING'S WILL IS LAW"
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
Lieutenant Butzow, the American's best friend, had no more suspected the exchange of identities. Von der Tann, too, must have been deceived. Everyone had been deceived. There was no hope that the people, who really saw so little of their king, would guess the deception that was being played upon them. Leopold groaned. Barney opened his eyes and turned toward him.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"I will sign the release and the sanction of her highness' marriage to you," said the king.
"Good!" exclaimed the American. "You will then go at once to Brosnov as originally planned. I will return to Lus- tadt and get her highness, and we will immediately leave Lutha via Brosnov. There you and I will effect a change of raiment, and you will ride back to Lustadt with the small guard that accompanies her highness and me to the frontier."
"Why do you not remain in Lustadt?" asked the king. "You could as well be married there as elsewhere."
"Because I don't trust your majesty," replied the American. "It must be done precisely as I say or not at all. Are you agreeable?"
The king assented with a grumpy nod.
"Then get up and write as I dictate," said Barney. Leo- pold of Lutha did as he was bid. The result was two short, crisply worded documents. At the bottom of each was the signature of Leopold of Lutha. Barney took the two papers and carefully tucked them beneath his pillow.
"Now let's sleep," he said. "It is getting late and we both need the rest. In the morning we have long rides ahead of us. Good night."
The king did not respond. In a short time Barney was fast asleep. The light still burned.
XIV
"THE KING'S WILL IS LAW"
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