he man was born to it. We'd have done it before if Michael
had throttled the king in that cellar, as I thought he would. Yes, by
heavens, we'd have done it! Why, we wanted it! God forgive us, in our
hearts both Fritz and I wanted it. But Rudolf would have the king out.
He would have him out, though he lost a throne--and what he wanted
more--by it. But he would have him out. So he thwarted the fate. But
it's not to be thwarted. Young Rupert may think this new affair is his
doing. No, it's the fate using him. The fate brought Rudolf here again,
the fate will have him king. Well, you stare at me. Do you think I'm
mad, Mr. Valet?"

"I think, sir, that you talk very good sense, if I may say so," answered
James.

"Sense?" echoed Sapt with a chuckle. "I don't know about that. But the
fate's there, depend on it!"

The two were back in their little room now, past the door that hid the
bodies of the king and his huntsman. James stood by the table, old Sapt
roamed up and down, tugging his moustache, and now and again sawing the
air with his sturdy hairy hand.

"I daren't do it," he muttered: "I daren't do it. It's a thing a man
can't set his hand to of his own will. But the fate'll do it--the
fate'll do it. The fate'll force it on us."

"Then we'd best be ready, sir," suggested James quietly. Sapt turned on
him quickly, almost fiercely.

"They used to call me a cool hand," said he. "By Jove, what are you?"

"There's no harm in being ready, sir," said James, the servant.

Sapt came to him and caught hold of his shoulders. "Ready?" he asked in
a gruff whisper.

"The oil, the firewood, the light," said James.

"Where, man, where? Do you mean, by the bodies?"

"Not where the bodies are now. Each must be in the proper place."

"We must move them then?"

"Why, yes. And the dog too."

Sapt almost glared at him; then he burst into a laugh.

"So be it," he said. "You take command. Yes, we'll be ready. The fate
drives."

Then and there they set about what they had to do. It seemed indeed as
though some strange influence were dominating Sapt; he went about the
work like a man who is hardly awake. They placed the bodies each where
the living man would be by night--the king in the guest-room, the
huntsman in the sort of cupboard where the honest fellow had been wont
to lie. They dug up the buried dog, Sapt chuckling convulsively, James
grave as the mute whose grim doings he seemed to travesty: they carried
the shot-pierced