“But what is your plan,” asked Bennett feverishly. “Is this really an armed effort to dethrone the king?”
“It is indeed—an effort armed to the teeth. You and I, Herr Bennett, are the only loyal subjects left at this moment to Rudolph XII., one hour ago king of Hesse-Heilfels. I have been looking for an outbreak for some years back. I am used to them, Herr Bennett. During the thousand years I have passed as the real ruler of Hesse-Heilfels, I have seen many uprisings of the people, and I have learned to detect the preliminary symptoms. Wilhelm has played his cards well. He has waited until the time was ripe. Now he ‘calls,’ and Rudolph holds no hand.”
“And you, Cousin Fritz?” asked Bennett, marvelling at the strange creature at his side.
“And I? I remain true to Rudolph. I can afford to, Herr Bennett. Am I not, after all, the eternal king of Hesse-Heilfels? I was king before the Schwartzburgers came, and I shall reign when they are gone. I lose nothing by clinging to Rudolph’s falling state. And he has always been kind to Cousin Fritz! But let us hurry on, Herr Bennett. Every moment is now of value, if we would persuade the king that he must take to flight.”
Bennett stumbled forward through the dark corridor, clinging to the dwarf’s arm and wondering vaguely if the night’s adventures would never come to an end. It seemed to the American as if he had crowded into the space of a few brief hours an experience stolen in some mysterious way from a year in the life of a mediæval knight-errant. “We live by thoughts, not years; by heart-throbs, not in figures on a dial,” he murmured to himself as they reached the outer doors of the king’s audience chamber.
A striking tableau met their eyes as they passed from the gloom of the corridor into the lighted hall. King Rudolph, pale, dishevelled, wild-eyed, stood in the centre of the chamber, gazing helplessly at the two courtiers who had remained loyal to him on this night of Brother Wilhelm’s triumph. The Princess Hilda, her face white, but calm, stood by his side and seemed to be whispering words of comfort to the discomfited monarch.
As Rudolph’s eyes rested upon Bennett an expression of hope crossed his face.
“Is it true, Herr Bennett?” he cried. “Tell these men they lie. Tell them my castle is not infested by my brother’s friends! Tell them they dream wild dreams on a peaceful summer night. What means this wild scurrying to and fro? Speak, Herr Bennett. You, at least have not lost your wits.”
The American strove to catch Hilda’s eye, but the princess studiously avoided his gaze.
“Your majesty,” said Bennett solemnly, “I have seen from my windows a sight that convinces me you stand in great peril. I cannot doubt the evidence of my senses. This may be the end of the nineteenth century, but there appears to be a middle-age deviltry going on to-night, and you and I—if you will pardon my frankness—seem to be the victims.”