“And that was?” cried the king eagerly.
“Poker!” answered the princess simply.
Bennett stepped back as though struck by a blow in the face, while the king sprang to his feet and puffed helplessly for a moment.
“Donner und Blitzen!” blurted King Rudolph, shaking his fist at the American, whose white lips and flushed cheeks gave evidence of his inward agitation. “You are responsible for this, Herr Bennett! You sneak into my kingdom and tell me you have news from a better world than mine. You tell me that I and my people are ‘behind the times.’ I give you room in my palace and you complain that we have no gas, no electricity, no telephones, no cable cars to climb the hills, no new castles. All is old, you whisper, time-worn, covered with lichen, useless, dead. And I, the only fool of all the Schwartzburgers, listen to you and grow cold to my old counsellors. You talk of progress—and give me poker. You speak of grandeur—and make me a gambler. You point to a rainbow—and pick my pockets. It is enough. I have learned my lesson. Go, Herr Bennett—and may the curse of the King of Hesse-Heilfels be with you to the end.”
King Rudolph sank back into his chair, panting for breath.
At this instant a man burst into the room unannounced, dragging with him a page who had sought to check his impetuosity.
The intruder was a comical figure at his most dignified moments, but at this instant he looked as if he had escaped from a light opera company, just when the audience was roaring at his best joke. He was not over four feet three in height. His hair was tousled and of a light yellow hue. His features were large, especially his nose. Under the influence of great excitement his eyes bulged from his head as if in search of mislaid spectacles. He was attired in a green velvet jacket and small clothes, with a frilled shirt and a small sword at his side. In his hand he carried a green cap, from which a long black feather trailed along the floor.
“Your majesty, pardon me,” he cried, falling upon one knee before the king. “I protest to the throne. I know that I am right! Nicht wahr?”
In spite of the solemnity of the crisis, King Rudolph laughed aloud, the Princess Hilda smiled, and an expression of hope rested upon Jonathan Bennett’s disturbed countenance. The sudden change in the king’s mood was encouraging.
“Rise, Cousin Fritz,” said the king jocosely. “You never appeal to the king in vain. What is your grievance. Perhaps your troubles may prove for the moment a counter-irritant to mine.”