“My mother told me of it,” he blurted out helplessly, backing towards the door to secure a refuge from the King’s wrath.
Maximilian struck furiously upon a gong. Karl rushed in, evidently in a state of alarm.
“Take this boy away,” said the King, fiercely, “and send me Bernal here at once, and Johann Mark.”
Karl darted off, accompanied by Ernest, who, in his hurry to escape from his cousin’s presence, forgot to call his dog after him; and Maximilian paced the room with frantic strides till the attendant returned. Auguste was with him.
“Herr Mark has left the Castle,” explained the agitated Karl. “He took a horse from the stable an hour ago, saying that it was on your Majesty’s service, and rode away at a gallop.”
Maximilian tore at his hair.
“Traitor! He has deserted me in the hour of need, after working my ruin!” he cried in the first moment. But on reflection, he added, “Perhaps he has gone to get help. We shall see.”
Bernal affected to be ignorant of the cause of the King’s excitement.
“Has anything happened?” he inquired. “What is it that has disturbed you?”
Maximilian glanced from his face to that of Karl, and back again. The musician was unable to meet his eye. Karl, better used to hypocrisy, displayed the most genuine tribulation.