loiterers from the room
below. They faced the King, standing like a giant in the centre of the
floor with his long military sword flashing grey in the dim light.

"Be off," he cried. "This is not your affair. I do not wish to hurt
any of you, but I will kill the first man who comes a yard further."

They hung back, but one remained looking about him with crafty,
peering eyes, his long upper teeth gleaming like yellow fangs. His
hand lurked about his tunic.

"Little master," he said, "tell us what has happened here? There is a
man hurt. What have you done to him?"

Ughtred's sword was within an inch of the man's chest.

"The man is unhurt and my prisoner," Ughtred said.

"Your prisoner, little master. My eyes are bad, and the light is dim.
Who are you to come here and make prisoners?"

"I am the King," Ughtred answered, rashly.

There were those who knew him. There was a murmur which was like a
growl, and Ughtred hesitated no longer, but ran his sword through the
man whose knife was already stealing from his tunic. He fell back with
a shriek of horror, and the King himself in grievous danger, wrenched
his sword free. There were half-a-dozen knives raised, and one must
have struck into his chest. But Marie, stooping down, had seized
Domiloff's revolver, and, leaning over, shot the man through the
heart. The King, who had recovered his balance, sprang amongst them,
and they scattered like rabbits. Then came a great cry from
down-stairs.

"The soldiers! Quick! Save yourself."

They fled without waiting for a parting stroke. Ughtred lowered his
sword and let them pass. There were three dead and wounded in the
room, and Domiloff lay on his back where the King had thrown him. The
King turned to Marie.

"You are a brave woman," he said. "You have saved both our lives."

But she held out both her hands to him, and her eyes were streaming.

"Your Majesty has saved more than my life," she faltered, "and I have
not deserved it. I have been your enemy."

He took her hands gently.

"We have fought together," he said. "Henceforth we should be
comrades."

* * * * *

Eleven men sat around a long table in one of the rooms of the Reist
house. They talked only in whispers, and a general air of uneasiness
was apparent. It was rumoured that the King was in the city, and these
men felt themselves to be conspirators. Domiloff was strangely absent.
The Countess of Reist in her own house had o