“Does any one want to see me, Auguste?”
Bernal and Karl exchanged dark glances, and the former hastened back inside.
Hermengarde’s sentinels had done their work.
Johann lost no more time. He hastened to the stable, ordered a horse to be saddled instantly on the King’s business, and galloped off at full speed towards the distant railway station.
As he drew up to the top of the hill which separated the enchanted valley from the outer world, he saw a State carriage, drawn by four horses with postilions, drive rapidly through the archway which guarded the royal demesne, and come swinging down past him towards the Castle. Hardly had he gained the gateway himself than another similar carriage drew up, a person closely wrapped up leant out of the window and gave a password to the officer in charge of the gate, and this carriage followed on after its predecessor. Behind, at a little distance, Johann could see a third carriage rolling swiftly up the long road which led from the station.
He checked his horse under the archway, and asked with affected carelessness of the officer—
“Who was that man who spoke to you from the carriage?”
The officer looked at Johann, and appeared to recognise him. His position in the King’s favour had hitherto naturally led to deference on the part of the underlings of the Court. But on this occasion the officer’s manner was brusque almost to rudeness.
“That was the Privy Councillor von Layern, Herr Mark. Ride on, if you please; I have no instructions to stop you.”
Johann started violently, and his horse gave a plunge. He pulled the rein to turn round.