ore five the man outside the prisoner's door heard
something inside the room. He glanced in. All was quiet. The prisoner
slept heavily, genuine sleep. There was no mistaking it, the sleep of a
man warm after long cold and exhaustion, weary after violent effort. The
agent went out again, and locked the door behind him.

And as the door closed, a trap-door from the kitchen below opened softly
under the sleeping man's bed. With great caution came the landlord,
head first, then shoulders. The space was cramped. He crawled up, like a
snake out of a hole, and ducked behind the curtains of the bed. All
was still quiet, save that the man outside struck a match and lighted a
pipe.

Half an hour later, the Chancellor's prisoner, still stiff and weak, was
making his way toward the hunting-lodge.

Kaiser saw him first, and found the story unenlightening. Nor could
Karl, roused by a terrified valet, make much more of it. When the man
had gone, Karl lay back among his pillows and eyed his agent.

"So Mettlich is here!" he said. "A hasty journey. They must be eager."

"They must be in trouble," Kaiser observed dryly. And on that
uncomplimentary comment King Karl slept, his face drawn into a wry
smile.

But he received the Chancellor of Livonia cordially the next morning,
going himself to the lodge doorstep to meet his visitor, and there
shaking hands with him.

"I am greatly honored, Excellency," he said, with his twisted smile.

"And I, sire."

But the Chancellor watched him from under his shaggy brows. The
messenger had escaped. By now Karl knew the story, knew of his midnight
ride over the mountains; and the haste it indicated. He sheathed
himself in dignity; did the Chancellor, held his head high and moved
ponderously, as became one who came to talk of important matters, but
not to ask a boon.

Karl himself led the way to his study, ignoring the chamberlain, and
stood aside to let Mettlich enter. Then he followed and closed the door.

"It is a long time since you have honored Karnia with a visit," Karl
observed. "Will you sit down?"

Karl himself did not sit. He stood negligently beside the mantel, an arm
stretched along it.

"Not since the battle of the Ar, sire," replied the Chancellor dryly. He
had headed an army of invasion then.

Karl smiled. "I hope that now your errand is more peaceful."

For answer the Chancellor opened a portfolio he carried, and fumbled
among its papers. But, having found the right one