The Mad King [119]
--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 I shall 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.
"While you have been sleeping many things have trans- pired within the walls of your castle. The king's troopers have departed; but that is a small matter compared with the other. Here, behind the portrait of your great-grand- mother, I have listened and watched all night. I opened the secret door a fraction of an inch--just enough to permit
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 I shall 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.
"While you have been sleeping many things have trans- pired within the walls of your castle. The king's troopers have departed; but that is a small matter compared with the other. Here, behind the portrait of your great-grand- mother, I have listened and watched all night. I opened the secret door a fraction of an inch--just enough to permit