he "king."

Through the window overlooking the courtyard came a piteous wailing.
Barney ran to the casement and looked out. Butzow was at his side.

"Himmel!" ejaculated the Luthanian. "They are about to shoot him.
Quick, your majesty," and without waiting to see if he were followed
the lieutenant raced for the door of the apartment. Close behind him
came the American and the seventeen.

It took but a moment to reach the stairway down which the rescuers
tumbled pell-mell.

Maenck was giving his commands to the firing squad with fiendish
deliberation and delay. He seemed to enjoy dragging out the agony
that the condemned man suffered. But it was this very cruelty that
caused Maenck's undoing and saved the life of Leopold of Lutha. Just
before he gave the word to fire Maenck paused and laughed aloud at
the pitiable figure trembling and whining against the stone wall
before him, and during that pause a commotion arose at the tower
doorway behind the firing squad.

Maenck turned to discover the cause of the interruption, and as he
turned he saw the figure of the king leaping toward him with leveled
revolver. At the king's back a company of troopers of the Royal
Horse Guard was pouring into the courtyard.

Maenck snatched his own revolver from his hip and fired point-blank
at the "king." The firing squad had turned at the sound of assault
from the rear. Some of them discharged their pieces at the advancing
troopers. Butzow gave a command and seventeen carbines poured their
deadly hail into the ranks of the Blentz retainers. At Maenck's shot
the "king" staggered and fell to the pavement.

Maenck leaped across his prostrate form, yelling to his men "Shoot
the American." Then he was lost to Barney's sight in the
hand-to-hand scrimmage that was taking place. The American tried to
regain his feet, but the shock of the wound in his breast had
apparently paralyzed him for the moment. A Blentz soldier was
running toward the prisoner standing open-mouthed against the wall.
The fellow's rifle was raised to his hip--his intention was only too
obvious.

Barney drew himself painfully and slowly to one elbow. The man was
rapidly nearing the true Leopold. In another moment he would shoot.
The American raised his revolver and, taking careful aim, fired. The
soldier shrieked, covered his face with his hands, spun around once,
and dropped at the king's feet.

The troopers under Butzow were forcing the men of Blentz toward the
fa