Bennett had twice ordered him to do so,
and then he deposited himself in a nearby chair, in as uncomfortable a
position as he could devise, allowing only the smallest fraction of his
body to be supported as a mark of deference. He remained uncovered, and
from time to time nervously saluted. But suddenly he remembered the
object of his visit.

"Oh, but I forgot--seeing you like this, unexpected, sir, clean drove
Mr. Ferriss out of my mind. How is he getting on? I saw in the papers he
was main sick."

"He's dead," said Bennett quietly.

Adler was for the moment stricken speechless. His jaw dropped; he
stared, and caught his breath.

"Mr. Ferriss dead!" he exclaimed at length. "I--I can't believe it." He
crossed himself rapidly. Bennett made no reply, and for upward of five
minutes the two men sat motionless in the chairs, looking off into the
night. After a while Adler broke silence and asked a few questions as to
Ferriss's sickness and the nature and time of his death--questions which
Bennett answered as best he might. But it was evident that Bennett,
alive and present there in the flesh, was more to Adler than Ferriss
dead.

"But _you're_ all right, sir, ain't you?" he asked at length. "There
ain't anything the matter with you?"

"No," said Bennett; looking at him steadily; then suddenly he added:

"Adler, I was to blame for Mr. Ferriss's death. If it hadn't been for me
he would probably have been alive to-night. It was my fault. I did what
I thought was right, when I knew all the time, just as I know now, that
I was wrong. So, when any one asks you about Mr. Ferriss's death you are
to tell him just what you know about it--understand? Through a mistake I
was responsible for his death. I shall not tell you more than that, but
that much you ought to know."

Adler looked at Bennett curiously and with infinite amazement. The order
of his universe was breaking up about his ears. Bennett, the
inscrutable, who performed his wonders in a mystery, impenetrable to
common eyes, who moved with his head in the clouds, behold! he was
rendering account to him, Adler, the meanest of his subjects--the king
was condescending to the vassal, was admitting him to his confidence.
And what was this thing he was saying, that he was responsible for
Ferriss's death? Adler did not understand; his wits could not adjust
themselves to such information. Ferriss was dead, but how was Bennett to
blame? The king could do no wrong. Adler did n