CHAPTER X.
The sun had peeped above the island to the eastward and was throwing its caressing rays across the Sound. The storm that had chastised the waters and grumbled its way inland had left a smiling daybreak in its track. The Crown Prince of Rexania still tossed in feverish sleep upon his bed upstairs as Posadowski and Posnovitch, who had obtained a short but thorough rest, stood behind the old manor house, looking out upon the golden shimmer that gilded the tossing waters of the Sound.
“There is only one way to deal with Ludovics,” said Posadowski, emphatically. “There is a great risk in sending him back to the city, but I dare not keep him here. He’s a murderous little man when in liquor, and our force is not large enough to keep a close watch upon him. Now, my plan is this. When the prince awakens, I will persuade him to write a note giving you authority to get his belongings at the hotel. He wouldn’t be thoroughly comfortable here in evening dress. I will also put Ludovics in your charge. You must take him to the city and on your way down intimate that if he returns here he will be locked up, and if he plays us false in the city there are fourteen men each one of whom will swear to have his life. Do you understand me, Posnovitch? Good! Go and call him.”
A few moments later Ludovics, pale and limp, felt the cool, morning air kissing his fevered cheeks. He stood before Posadowski trembling, repentant, and not quite clear in his mind. He vaguely realized that he had done something mutinous, but just what it was he could not remember.
“Ludovics,” said Posadowski, sternly, “for the sake of the cause you love, it is best that you should accompany Posnovitch to the city. Don’t return here until you get an order from me. Understand?”
The small man trembled with nervousness, and his eyes filled with tears.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I forget what I did that annoyed you. I will hereafter do as you wish. Come, Posnovitch,” he continued, meekly, “I am ready to go with you.”
“There is no hurry,” remarked Posadowski, more gently than he had spoken before. “Posnovitch will have to wait here until I get a note for him from the crown prince.”
Ludovics’ eyes gleamed as the name of the man he had attempted to brain with a bottle reached his ear. He gazed about him restlessly for a moment, and then said, earnestly: