Natcheff threw out his hands, shrugging his shoulders ever so slightly:
"I regret to say that the effect is the worst possible. His Majesty is dead."
Silence again—a silence strangely broken. Stafnitz sprang across the room with a bound like a cat's, and caught the physician by the shoulder.
"No!" he said. "Not for twenty-four hours yet! His Majesty dies—to-morrow!"
XV
A JOB FOR CAPTAIN HERCULES
"His Majesty dies—to-morrow!"
Stafnitz's words seemed to freeze them all stiff where they stood; even Countess Ellenburg's sobs, which had threatened to break forth again, were arrested in their flow.
"Markart, lock the door leading to the King's apartments. Natcheff and Lepage, carry the King into his bedroom; lay him on the bed; stay there till I call you. Countess, General, I invite your earnest attention."