While he was still restlessly moving to and fro, he heard steps in the corridor outside, and the rattling of a key placed in the lock. The door was opened, and a warder came in, followed by the individual who had just been entered as Hans Trübner in the governor’s book.
“What does this mean?” demanded the King, angrily, with something of a royal air.
“The prison is full, sir,” returned the warder with some respect, “and we are obliged to put two prisoners in every cell.”
With that he turned and went out again, locking the door after him.
Maximilian made an effort to restrain his indignation.
“Are you one of the Socialists?” he asked the new-comer, who had advanced towards him.
“I was arrested along with the others,” answered the stranger, speaking as to a comrade, but with a certain deference which caused Maximilian to regard him with a closer scrutiny.
“May I ask your name?”
“I am called Hans Trübner. And you?”
The King repeated the name he had himself assumed. They sat down and entered into conversation.