The old woman looked up with dull eyes and a stupid, cunning smile.
“Let them alone,” she said. “There’s no king here.”
“Yes, yes. He’s upstairs in the count’s room. They’re fighting, he and the Count of Hentzau. Mother, Count Rupert will kill—”
“Let them alone. He the king? He’s no king,” muttered the old woman again.
For an instant Rosa stood looking down on her in helpless despair. Then a light flashed into her eyes.
“I must call for help,” she cried.
The old woman seemed to spring to sudden life. She jumped up and caught her daughter by the shoulder.
“No, no,” she whispered in quick accents. “You—you don’t know. Let them alone, you fool! It’s not our business. Let them alone.”
“Let me go, mother, let me go! Mother, I must help the king!”
“I’ll not let you go,” said Mother Holf.