At that moment Bennett had placed a detaining hand upon the Princess Hilda’s arm. The cumulative force of the adventures through which they had passed together had rendered ceremoniousness out of place at this juncture.
“The need of aid from above has passed, your highness,” said Bennett gently. “I beg you to remain here. The King is——”
“Is dead,” added the princess sadly.
At that instant far down the cellar they heard the dwarf’s voice crying shrilly: “The King is dead! Live the King!”
Bennett gazed at the princess in amazement.
“’Tis Cousin Fritz’s voice. But how did he know? How did he know?”
CHAPTER XIV.
“Are you very tired, your highness?”