Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-03-13

blood. Old Sapt turned round in the saddle. Some one fired again, but they had no rifles. and we were out of range. Sapt fell to laughing!
 That's one to me and two to you, with decent luck" said he. Little Josef will have company
 Aye, they'll be partl caree," said l. My blood was up, and rej0lced to have killed them.
 Well, pleasant nights work to the restl' said he. T wonder if they no ticed you"
 "The big fellow did. As I struck him heard him cry, The kingp" Good, good! Oh, we'll give Black Michael some work before we've donev'
 Pausing an instant, we made band age for my wounded finger, which was bleeding freely and ached severely, the bone being much bruised. Then we rode on, asking of our good horses all that was in them. The excitement of the fight and of our great resolve died away, and we rode in gloomy silence. Day broke clear and cold. We found a farmer just up and made him give us sustenance for ourselves and our horses. I, feigning toothache, muf- fled my face closely. Then ahead again till Strelsau lay before us. It was 8 o'clock or nearing 9, and the gates were all open, as they always were save when the dukes caprice or intrigues shut them. We rode in by the same way as we had come out the evening before, all four of us-the men and the horses-wearied and jaded. The streets were even quieter than when we had gone-every one was sleeping off last nights revelry-an we met hardly soul till we reached the little gate of the palace. There Sapt's old groom was waiting for us,S
 "Is all well. sir?' he asked.
 "All's we'll" said Sapt, and the man, coming to see, took my hand to kiss.
 "The kings hurt!" he cried.
 "It's nothing said as dismounted. T caught my finger in the door," Remember, silence!" said Sapt. "Ah, but, my good Freyler, do not need to tell you that"
 The old fellow shrugged his shoul- ders. "All young men like to ride abroad now and then-why not the king" said he, and Sapt's laugh left his opin- ion of my motives undisturbed.
 "You should always trust a man," observed Sapt, fitting the key in the lock, just aS far as you must" We went in and reached the dressing room. Flinging open the door, we saw Fritz won Tarlenhelm stretched, fully dressed, on the sofa. He seemed to have been sleeping, but our entry woke him. He leaped to his feet, gave one glance. at me and with joyful cry threw himself on his knees before me.
 Thank God, sire! Thank God, you're safe" he cried, stretching his hand up to catch hold of mine.
 confess that was moved. This king, whatever his faults, made people love him. For a moment I could not bear to speak or break the poor fel- lows Illusion. But tough old Sapt had no such feeling. He slapped hls hand on his thigh delightedly.
 Bravo, ladv cried he. "We shall dor'
 Fritz looked up in ,bewilderment. held out my hand.
 You're wounded, sirew he exclaim. ed.
 Its only a scratch" said I, "but''- paused.
 He rose to his feet with a bewilder- ed air. Holding my hand, he looked me up and dowR and down and up. Then suddenly he dropped my hand and reeled back.
 Where's the king? Where's the kingY he cried.
 Hush, you foolr hissed Sapt. "Not so loud! Here's the king" A knock sounded at the door. Sapt seized me by the hand. Here, quick! To the bedroom! on with your cap and your boots. Get into bed. Cover everything up." did as was bid. A moment later Sapt looked in, nodded, grinned and introduced an extremely smart and deferential young gentleman, who came up to my bedside. lowing again and again, and informed me that he was of the household of the Princess Flavia and that her royal highness had sent him especially to inquire how the kings health was after the fatigues which his majesty had undergone yes terday.
 "My best thanks. sir, to my cousin" 1" said I, "and tell her royal highness that was never better in my life" "The king" added old Sapt. who. I began to find, loved good lie for it's own sake. ''has slept without break all night"
 The young gentleman (he reminded me of Osric In "Hamlet'D bowed him. self out again. The farce was over. md Fritz von Tarlenheim's pale face recalled us to reality, though, in faith, the farce had to be reality for us now.
 "Is the king dead?" he whispered.
 Please God. no," said I. But he's ln the hands of Black Michael"
 tTo be Continued.j