“Half of the Six are in Strelsau,” said Fritz.
“Only half? You’re sure?” asked Sapt eagerly.
“Yes—only half.”
“Then the King’s alive, for the other three are guarding him!” cried Sapt.
“Yes—you’re right!” exclaimed Fritz, his face brightening. “If the King were dead and buried, they’d all be here with Michael. You know Michael’s back, colonel?”
“I know, curse him!”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said I, “who are the Six?”
“I think you’ll make their acquaintance soon,” said Sapt. “They are six gentlemen whom Michael maintains in his household: they belong to him body and soul. There are three Ruritanians; then there’s a Frenchman, a Belgian, and one of your countrymen.”
“They’d all cut a throat if Michael told them,” said Fritz.
“Perhaps they’ll cut mine,” I suggested.