with us."

They went out. Sapt stopped and locked the door behind him. "Why do you
lock the door, Colonel?" asked the king.

"There are some papers in my drawer there, sire."

"But why not lock the drawer?

"I have lost the key, sire, like the fool I am," said the colonel.

The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim did not make a very good breakfast. He
sat opposite to the king. Colonel Sapt placed himself at the back of the
king's chair, and Rischenheim saw the muzzle of a revolver resting on
the top of the chair just behind his Majesty's right ear. Bernenstein
stood in soldierly rigidity by the door; Rischenheim looked round at him
once and met a most significant gaze.

"You're eating nothing," said the king. "I hope you're not indisposed?"

"I am a little upset, sire," stammered Rischenheim, and truly enough.

"Well, tell me about the dogs--while I eat, for I'm hungry."

Rischenheim began to disclose his secret. His statement was decidedly
wanting in clearness. The king grew impatient.

"I don't understand," said he testily, and he pushed his chair back so
quickly that Sapt skipped away, and hid the revolver behind his back.

"Sire--" cried Rischenheim, half rising. A cough from Lieutenant von
Bernenstein interrupted him.

"Tell it me all over again," said the king. Rischenheim did as he was
bid.

"Ah, I understand a little better now. Do you see, Sapt?" and he turned
his head round towards the constable. Sapt had just time to whisk the
revolver away. The count lent forward towards the king. Lieutenant von
Bernenstein coughed. The count sank back again.

"Perfectly, sire," said Colonel Sapt. "I understand all the count wishes
to convey to your Majesty."

"Well, I understand about half," said the king with a laugh. "But
perhaps that'll be enough."

"I think quite enough, sire," answered Sapt with a smile. The important
matter of the dogs being thus disposed of, the king recollected that the
count had asked for an audience on a matter of business.

"Now, what did you wish to say to me?" he asked, with a weary air. The
dogs had been more interesting.

Rischenheim looked at Sapt. The revolver was in its place; Bernenstein
coughed again. Yet he saw a chance.

"Your pardon, sire," said he, "but we are not alone."

The king lifted his eyebrows.

"Is the business so private?" he asked.

"I should prefer to tell it to your Majesty alone," pleaded the count.

Now Sapt was resolved not to leave Rischenheim alo