ung Scotchman, however,
seemed apparently devoted to Michael and his plots; and there was
undoubtedly some secret understanding between them. That it was
evidently Michael's trick to have the pretender crowned, and then, by
exposing the fraud and the condition of the real King, excite the
indignation of the duped people, and seat himself on the throne!
"But," I burst out, "shall this base-born pretender remain at Kohlslau
beside the beautiful Princess Flirtia? Let us to Kohlslau at once and
hurl him from the throne!"

"One pretender is as good as another," said Spitz dryly. "But leave
HIM to me. 'Tis the King we must protect and succor! As for that
Scotch springald, before midnight I shall have him kidnaped, brought
back to his master in a close carriage, and you--YOU shall take his
place at Kohlslau."

"I will," I said enthusiastically, drawing my sword; "but I have done
nothing yet. Please let me kill something!"

"Aye, lad!" said Spitz, with a grim smile at my enthusiasm. "There's a
sheep in your path. Go out and cleave it to the saddle. And bring the
saddle home!"

My sister-in-law might have thought me cruel--but I did it.

CHAP XXIII AND SOME OTHER CHAPS

I know not how it was compassed, but that night Rupert of Glasgow was
left bound and gagged against the door of the castle, and the
night-bell pulled. And that night I was seated on the throne of the
S'helpburgs. As I gazed at the Princess Flirtia, glowing in the
characteristic beauty of the S'helpburgs, and admired her striking
profile, I murmured softly and half audibly: "Her nose is as a tower
that looketh toward Damascus."

She looked puzzled, and knitted her pretty brows. "Is that poetry?"
she asked.

"No" I said promptly. "It's only part of a song of our great
Ancestor." As she blushed slightly, I playfully flung around her fair
neck the jeweled collar of the Order of the S'helpburgs--three golden
spheres pendant, quartered from the arms of Lombardy---with the ancient
Syric motto, El Ess Dee.

She toyed with it a moment, and then said softly: "You have changed,
Rupert. Do ye no ken hoo?"

I looked at her--as surprised at her dialect as at the imputation.

"You don't talk that way, as you did. And you don't say, 'It WILL be
twelve o'clock,' when you mean, 'It IS twelve o'clock,' nor 'I will be
going out,' when you mean 'I AM.' And you didn't say, 'Eh, sirs!' or
'Eh, mon,' to any of the Court--nor 'Hoot awa!' nor any of those