“Yes, yes, she knows me. But I am in great danger here if anyone should see me. I have enemies. Enemies to the King. Enemies to the Queen.”
“John,” I said, “if he’ll write another pass, and you see him do it, and they think it is all right at the Palace, I guess we’d better take him up there. But we won’t vouch for him.”
There was a half-choked expletive from under the blanket, which stopped abruptly, and then changed to saccharine sweetness. “Any way you like, gentlemen,” the voice said. “Stop the car while I write, but be sure there is no one to see me. I cannot write while the car moves.”
We went through the little ceremony without mishap. John compared the signatures on the two passes. “Whatever this is meant for,” he said, “it is quite illegible, but the two look exactly alike.”
“All right,” I agreed, “we’ll go, but I shall tell the guards that we do not know the man, and are not responsible for him, and that I shall feel safer if he is carefully watched.”
“I don’t care what you tell the guards,” came from under the robe. “Only I wish to be taken to the Royal Palace, and queeck. Perhaps you know what has been happening since I was in prison?”
I heard John say, “why, yes, a little, I guess. Though we don’t really know much of what has been going on the last two days. We’ve been about as much out of touch as you have. Of course you knew the King is dead?”
“Oh. The King is dead! No, I did not know that.”
“Yes, assassinated.”
“Ah. The poor King! And is Conrad already in power in the Palace, then?”