"You do not understand matters," I said shortly.
"Understand! There's not much wit needed to understand this business. I know enough what the people think and want, and what a bold coup would do at this crisis; and if ever a woman had a crown at her feet, and for the mere picking up, it's the countess."
"Maybe; but matters are as I say. I will give you my decision later."
"I hope you won't let yourself be ruled by a woman's tricky fears. There's danger that way, too. Once give these Ostenburg folk the power, and you may whistle for your chances of any safety. I wouldn't trust one of them. What will you do?"
"I have not decided," I repeated; and it was evident that my apparent vacillation mortified him. But the mood passed in a second, as did most moods with him, except revenge, and he laughed.
"Well, of course, it must be as you please. It is your game, not mine," and he waved his hand as though the matter were settled. Then he asked with another change of tone:
"And about the burial of that carrion von Nauheim?"
"Where is the body lying?"
"In the shed of a cottage nearest to the spot where he broke his miserable neck."
"I will leave directions here for the funeral. There will be some sort of inquiry, and you may have to be present as witness. But I don't suppose any of those who have used him will take much heed of his death, and probably Major Gessler will be able to make all arrangements."