“Tell it me all over again,” said the king. Rischenheim did as he was bid.
“Ah, I understand a little better now. Do you see, Sapt?” and he turned his head round towards the constable. Sapt had just time to whisk the revolver away. The count lent forward towards the king. Lieutenant von Bernenstein coughed. The count sank back again.
“Perfectly, sire,” said Colonel Sapt. “I understand all the count wishes to convey to your Majesty.”
“Well, I understand about half,” said the king with a laugh. “But perhaps that’ll be enough.”
“I think quite enough, sire,” answered Sapt with a smile. The important matter of the dogs being thus disposed of, the king recollected that the count had asked for an audience on a matter of business.
“Now, what did you wish to say to me?” he asked, with a weary air. The dogs had been more interesting.
Rischenheim looked at Sapt. The revolver was in its place; Bernenstein coughed again. Yet he saw a chance.
“Your pardon, sire,” said he, “but we are not alone.”
The king lifted his eyebrows.
“Is the business so private?” he asked.