"Stand up, and farther off," came the contemptuous command. "I am not accustomed to doing my own police work. You need not try to escape; the guard is within call. I might have had you arrested half an hour ago when I first saw you."
"Royal Highness, how—why—"
Stanief answered the stupefied gaze, coldly amused.
"Because it interested me to watch your attempt. I keep a mirror on my desk, not being without experience. Who sent you to kill me?"
"Royal Highness, my brother was hung last week."
"As you this week. Well?"
The man winced.
"Royal Highness, we wanted freedom. They tell us that while your Royal Highness lives it can not be; the country is too firmly held and too content. So we strive to act in time."
He spoke as one reciting a lesson, monotonously, with effort. His type was familiar, lacking even the poor excuse of originality.
"Your brother was executed for an attempt to kill me?"