“Ha!” said the king. “What, rats behind the arras!”
“No rat, sire,” said a bold youth, advancing into view.
It was Ned Warbeck.
In his hand he held a sword.
The point was gory, and the brave youth looked flushed and excited.
“What means this,” gasped the king, with a hand upon his own sword.
“Mean, sire!” answered Ned, proudly; “it means that Colonel Blood is a villain! It means that he caused the abduction of this fair maid from my uncle’s house! It means that he has proved himself a hypocrite and a liar! And, finally, it means that I watched for him, and found my way hither over his vile body!”
“What, dead! Blood dead?”
“That I know not, sire, nor care,” said Ned Warbeck, boldly. “He confronted me, sword in hand; I left him gasping on the back stairs.”
“And what would you with me?”