things. And," she added with a divine little pout, "you haven't told
me I was 'sonsie' or 'bonnie' once."

I could with difficulty restrain myself. Rage, indignation, and
jealousy filled my heart almost to bursting. I understood it all; that
rascally Scotchman had made the most of his time, and dared to get
ahead of me! I did not mind being taken for the King, but to be
confounded with this infernal descendant of a gamekeeper--was too much!
Yet with a superhuman effort I remained calm--and even smiled.

"You are not well?" said the Princess earnestly. "I thought you were
taking too much of the Strasbourg pie at supper! And you are not
going, surely--so soon?" she added, as I rose.

"I must go at once," I said. "I have forgotten some important business
at Bock."

"Not boar hunting again?" she said poutingly.

"No, I'm hunting a red dear," I said with that playful subtlety which
would make her take it as a personal compliment, though I was only
thinking of that impostor, and longing to get at him, as I bowed and
withdrew.

In another hour I was before Black Michael's castle at Bock. These are
lightning changes, I know--and the sovereignty of Trulyruralania WAS
somewhat itinerant--but when a kingdom and a beautiful Princess are at
stake, what are you to do? Fritz had begged me to take him along, but
I arranged that he should come later, and go up unostentatiously in the
lift. I was going by way of the moat. I was to succor the King, but I
fear my real object was to get at Rupert of Glasgow.

I had noticed the day before that a large outside drain pipe, decreed
by the Bock County Council, ran from the moat to the third floor of the
donjon keep. I surmised that the King was imprisoned on that floor.
Examining the pipe closely, I saw that it was really a pneumatic
dispatch tube, for secretly conveying letters and dispatches from the
castle through the moat beyond the castle walls. Its extraordinary
size, however, gave me the horrible conviction that it was to be used
to convey the dead body of the King to the moat. I grew cold with
horror--but I was determined.

I crept up the pipe. As I expected, it opened funnel-wise into a room
where the poor King was playing poker with Black Michael. It took me
but a moment to dash through the window into the room, push the King
aside, gag and bind Black Michael, and lower him by a stout rope into
the pipe he had destined for another. Having him in my power, I