"And for the King's throne? Do you think that the nobles and the people
will enjoy being fooled as you've fooled them? Do you think they'll love
a King who was too drunk to be crowned, and sent a servant to personate
him?"

"He was drugged--and I'm no servant."

"Mine will be Black Michael's version."

He rose, came to me, and laid his hand on my shoulder.

"Lad," he said, "if you play the man, you may save the King yet. Go back
and keep his throne warm for him."

"But the duke knows--the villains he has employed know--"

"Ay, but they can't speak!" roared Sapt in grim triumph.

"We've got 'em! How can they denounce you without denouncing themselves?
This is not the King, because we kidnapped the King and murdered his
servant. Can they say that?"

The position flashed on me. Whether Michael knew me or not, he could not
speak. Unless he produced the King, what could he do? And if he produced
the King, where was he? For a moment I was carried away headlong; but in
an instant the difficulties came strong upon me.

"I must be found out," I urged.

"Perhaps; but every hour's something. Above all, we must have a King in
Strelsau, or the city will be Michael's in four-and-twenty hours, and
what would the King's life be worth then--or his throne? Lad, you must
do it!"

"Suppose they kill the King?"

"They'll kill him, if you don't."

"Sapt, suppose they have killed the King?"

"Then, by heaven, you're as good an Elphberg as Black Michael, and you
shall reign in Ruritania! But I don't believe they have; nor will they
kill him if you're on the throne. Will they kill him, to put you in?"

It was a wild plan--wilder even and more hopeless than the trick we
had already carried through; but as I listened to Sapt I saw the strong
points in our game. And then I was a young man and I loved action, and I
was offered such a hand in such a game as perhaps never man played yet.

"I shall be found out," I said.

"Perhaps," said Sapt. "Come! to Strelsau! We shall be caught like rats
in a trap if we stay here."

"Sapt," I cried, "I'll try it!"

"Well played!" said he. "I hope they've left us the horses. I'll go and
see."

"We must bury that poor fellow," said I.

"No time," said Sapt.

"I'll do it."

"Hang you!" he grinned. "I make you a King, and--Well, do it. Go and
fetch him, while I look to the horses. He can't lie very deep, but I
doubt if he'll care about that. Poor little Josef! He was an honest bit
of a