SOPHY OF KRAVONIA
consider what a responsibility he undertakes if he advises the King to refuse to see his son. I shall await his Majesty's answer here. That is the message. You understand?"
"Perfectly, sir."
"Just repeat it. The terms are important."
Markart obeyed. The Prince nodded his head. "You shall have the letter for the King early in the morning. Now for bed! I'll show you to your room."
They went out and turned to the left. Markart counted their paces. At six paces they came to a door—and passed it. Four farther on, the Prince ushered him into the room where he was to sleep. It was evident that the Prince had made personal inspection of the state of Monsieur Zerkovitch's fire!
"Good-night, Captain. By-the-way, the King continues well?"
"Dr. Natcheff says, sir, that he doesn't think his Majesty was ever better in his life."
The Prince looked at him for just a moment with a reflective smile. "Ah, and a trustworthy man, Natcheff! Good-night!"
Markart did not see much reason to think that the question, the look, the smile, and the comment had any significance. But there would be no harm in submitting the point to General Stenovics. Pondering over this, he forgot to count the Prince's paces this time. If he had counted, the sum would have been just four. Monsieur Zerkovitch's fire needed another royal inspection—it needed it almost till the break of day.
"The King's life hangs by a hair, and your Crown by a thread." That was the warning which Lepage had given and Zerkovitch had carried through the night.
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