ne of the palace guards brought in Sobieski before Alec
had concluded his self imposed task. As it happened, the various items
were mere formalities, and when he wrote "Alexis R." for the last time,
Bosko and the soldier left the room, and the frightened little Pole
found himself alone with the King.

"Now," said Alec kindly, "tell me what you want and why you are so
afraid?"

Sobieski at once plunged into a rambling statement. He spoke the
Kosnovian language with the fluent inaccuracy of his class; but Alec's
alert ears had no difficulty in following his meaning. His story was
that several customers of the cafe had denounced him to the proprietor
as a spy in the King's service, while some of them went so far as to
charge him with responsibility for the deaths of those thirty-one
heroes of the Seventh Regiment whose bodies had been found on the stairs
and first floor landing of the hotel. His master had no option but to
discharge him, and Sobieski felt that he had good reason to fear that
his life was in danger. Alec pooh-poohed the notion; but the timid
little waiter was so woebegone that the King pitied him.

"Tell me exactly what you did on the day of the revolt," he said. "You
came here, I understand. How was it that no one listened to you?"

"Oh, they did, your Majesty," protested Sobieski. "Your Majesty's own
father brought me into the hall and kept me there nearly five minutes.
He did not believe a word I said, and was very angry with me for
bringing such an alarming story to the palace. At last, by good fortune,
Monsieur Nesimir appeared; but even then I should have been taken away
in custody if Monsieur Poluski had not caused me to be released."

Despite its sinister significance, Alec could not choose but credit this
amazing statement. He wondered why Felix had not told him the facts in
detail afterward; but he knew that the hunchback's mind worked in
strange grooves, and it was probable that his silence was dictated by
some powerful motive. In any event, the incident was an unpleasant
reminder of certain nebulous doubts that he had striven to crush, and it
was better that this scared rabbit of a man should not remain in
Delgratz and become the victim of some vendetta which might bring the
whole odd story into prominence.

"You want to leave the city, I take it?" said he after a thoughtful
pause, in which he took a slow turn up and down the room.

"I dare not remain here any longer, your Majesty. I came