“I need no assistance, Cousin Fritz,” she said gently. “Do not risk your life for my sake. You must not return to my apartments.”
The dwarf laughed gayly. “I go and come as the humor sways me,” he said proudly, “and no man says me nay. Sleep for a time, sweet princess, and when you awake you will find a woman by your side. Aufwiedersehen, and may you sleep well.”
He dropped the curtain and skipped lightly toward von Reibach and Wollenstein, who stood in deep converse in one corner of the room, glancing furtively now and then at Bennett, who was seated in a chair near the centre of the apartment, moodily reviewing the startling events of the long night.
“You will do me the honor, gentlemen,” said the dwarf cordially, but with a note of command in his voice, “you will do me the honor of making yourselves comfortable for a time. You will find these old couches fitted for an early morning nap. As for me, I must return to the upper halls.”
Bennett overheard the dwarf’s final words. They reawakened his slumbering suspicion. As the count and baron, acting upon the hint thrown out to them by their host, prepared themselves for sleep in a shadow-haunted alcove, he strode up to Cousin Fritz. Placing his hand upon the dwarf’s shoulder, he said:
“You are about to return to the upper part of the castle. I go with you, my friend.”
A mocking smile played across the unsymmetrical face of the dwarf. He read Bennett’s mind at a glance.
“As you will, Herr Bennett. My advice to you would be to get a little sleep while you may, but your company on an expedition that is not without some slight peril would be a pleasure and a comfort to me. Come, then, there is no time to lose.”
They had hardly passed from the room into the gloom of the cellar when a thought crossed Bennett’s mind that caused him to seize the dwarf’s arm and hold him motionless for a moment.
“These men,” he whispered, “why have they remained loyal to the king? Count von Reibach first. Why does he cling to Rudolph’s fallen fortunes?”