"Should wed!--Olvir here!"
"You may well gaze in bewilderment. I wonder at myself. Yet what father could withstand the heart's pleading of his maid-child?"
"My lord, I--rejoice at their joy. I will go--"
"Stay! Who comes leaping upon the stair?"
Rising swiftly, Karl set his great form before the queen, and loosened Ironbiter in its sheath. The half-drawn blade flashed out its full length, when Gerold, pale and glaring with horror, rushed wildly into the room, a bared dagger in his hand. Checked by the threatening sword-point, the Swabian stopped short and sank to his knee, panting.
"Murder, dear lord!" he gasped,--"murder beneath the king's roof! In the queen's morning-room Kosru the leech lies stark, a knife-thrust through his heart!"
Karl lowered his sword, and stared down at the young count.
"Murder?" he repeated. "Whose knife do you bear?"
"The slayer's, sire! I drew it out, and ran to show it you."
"Well done! Hold up the blade, that we may see-- So; it is of Danish make-- And the owner?"