"Your Majesty is excited."
"No, by God, I am only heartbroken—and I am through!" The King's hands dropped at his sides. The passion died out of his voice and eyes, leaving them those of a man who is very tired. For a moment there was silence. It was broken by the American.
"Pagratide," he asked, "why did you send for me?"
The King stood rigid with the illuminating shaft from the door touching into high-lights the polish of his boots and the burnish of his accouterments. Finally he turned and in a voice now deadly quiet countered with another question.
"Benton, why did you save me?"
The American answered with quiet candor.
"I went into it," he said, "because I feared the danger might threaten Cara. Once in, only a murderer could have turned back."
"So I thought." Karyl nodded his head, then he turned and paced restively up and down the path between the fountain and the balcony. At last he halted fronting the American.
"I wish to God, Benton, you had let that traitor Lapas and his constituents touch their damned button. I wish to God you had let them lift me, amid the stones of do Freres, into eternity! But that wish is uncharitable to Von Ritz and the others who must have gone with me." The King broke off with a short laugh. "After all," he added, "of course, as you say, you couldn't do it."
Benton shook his head. "No," he said, "I couldn't do it."