“God forgive him, I loved him,” said Rischenheim. “Yes, and many have loved him. His servants loved him, sir.”
“Friend Bauer, for example?”
“Yes, Bauer loved him. Where is Bauer?”
“I hope he’s gone to hell with his loved master,” grunted Sapt, but he had the grace to lower his voice and shield his mouth with his hand, so that Rischenheim did not hear.
“We don’t know where he is,” I answered.
“I am come,” said Rischenheim, “to put my services in all respects at the queen’s disposal.”
“And at the king’s?” asked Sapt.
“At the king’s? But the king is dead.”
“Therefore ‘Long live the king!’” struck in young Bernenstein.
“If there should be a king—” began Sapt.