The American uttered a few words of perfunctory acquiescence. He envied her the undismayed optimism of extreme youth. The conviction had come upon him that they might easily be placed in a more undesirable position than they occupied at that moment.
“Herr Bennett,” said the princess, a slight flush of embarrassment coming into her cheeks. “I was pleased to hear you speak so kindly of Cousin Fritz, but let me urge you to beware of the others. Cousin Fritz is your friend. The others hate you.”
Bennett smiled gently. “Thank you for your warning, Princess Hilda. I know well that they seek my life. But I have no fear of them. Some years ago, your royal highness, I was mining in Colorado, and,——”
It was many a long day before the Princess Hilda heard the conclusion of the anecdote Bennett was about to relate. Something in her face had caused him to turn and glance toward the entrance. He caught a glimpse of Cousin Fritz making a gesture toward them, and then his eyes rested in dismay upon the tall, martial figure of Carl Eingen.
“Good God, we are betrayed!” exclaimed Bennett, stepping forward and placing his hand upon the handle of his revolver.
At that instant a groan, wrung from a strong man in physical agony, arose from the centre of the room, and King Rudolph, who had sprung up from the poker table as Fritz and Carl appeared at the doorway, fell senseless into the arms of Baron Wollenstein.
“Put up your pistol, Herr Bennett,” piped Cousin Fritz, excitedly. “This man is our friend. Here, put the king on this couch! Get some wine, Fraulein Müller. Hurry. Baron Wollenstein, put his head down! There! Are you all paralyzed? Can’t you make haste? Will you take a bluff from death? I won’t. There, see! Cousin Rudolph opens his eyes! Give him wine! That’s right! He’ll be every inch a king before long! Come, now, stand back and let him sleep! That’s right. Sleep, Rudolph! Sleep!”
Without dissent or hesitation they had all obeyed the dwarf’s directions to the letter, and as they stood grouped around the couch, upon which Rudolph lay breathing stertorously, the thought suddenly flashed through their minds, in sympathetic accord for the moment, that Cousin Fritz was no vain boaster when he claimed to be the real ruler of Hesse-Heilfels.