CHAPTER VI.
Jonathan Edwards Bennett found himself in an uncomfortable predicament. He had solemnly promised to leave the kingdom at once, and he felt that the pledge he had given to the Princess Hilda implied an obligation upon his part to refrain from seeing Rudolph XII. again. On the other hand, he had no desire to risk his life in an effort to escape. That he was surrounded by enemies he could not doubt. He recalled the silhouette made by the conspirators against the moonlight, and it assumed a new significance to his mind as a black menace. To leave the castle at this moment would be to face mysterious perils that he had no wish to confront.
If he obeyed the command in the jester’s note he saw before him two unpleasant possibilities. If Cousin Fritz played him false, he might walk straight into the enemy’s trap. If, on the other hand, the king really awaited his coming, his recognition of the summons might look to Princess Hilda like treachery to her and disloyalty to his pledged word.
Bennett musingly approached a window and looked forth upon a scene that would have thrilled him, at a happier moment, with its calm beauty. The moon, now high in the heavens, smiled benignly upon a sleeping world. A gentle breeze whispered midnight gossip to the nodding tree-tops. Man and his restless passions seemed out of place in such surroundings. But suddenly upon Bennett’s astonished sight broke a vision that drove from his mind all idea of nature’s benignity and concentrated his thought upon the diabolical activity of man.
As if by magic, the castle seemed to be surrounded by dark forms moving hither and thither with a certain military precision. They appeared to come from the forest and to obey the will of some leader who had carefully matured his plans. Bennett opened the casement and leaned forward. He could hear the distant words of command and the subdued tramp of marching men. That he was wide awake he knew, but the inexplicable scene before him caused him for an instant to question his own sanity.
“Ha, you doubt my word?” whispered a rasping voice at the American’s elbow. “You imperil precious lives because, forsooth, you will not look upon the jester as a friend. Herr Bennett, let me tell you you are madder than your servant, Cousin Fritz.”
The dwarf chuckled with raucous merriment at his grim joke. Then he seized Bennett’s arm and drew him away from the window.
“There is no time to lose,” whispered the dwarf excitedly. “The king will not listen to reason. He refuses to admit that his crown, his castle, his very life are in peril at this hour. Come with me and tell him what you saw from yonder window. Then throw him a hand at poker for life or death, eh? We must be gay, Herr Bennett, even though Brother Wilhelm has placed his hand upon our sceptre and would hurl us from the throne. We must be gay, nicht wahr?”
In another moment Bennett and his madcap guide were hastening toward King Rudolph’s audience chamber.
“The Princess Hilda, and two or three of the king’s most loyal gentlemen you will find here,” said the dwarf, as they approached the king’s apartments. “I want you to persuade my Cousin Rudolph that he is backing a bobtailed flush against a full house. Isn’t that correct, Herr Bennett? A bobtailed flush against a full house?”