The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim did not make a very good
breakfast. He sat opposite to the king. Colonel Sapt placed
himself at the back of the king's chair, and Rischenheim saw the
muzzle of a revolver resting on the top of the chair just behind
his Majesty's right ear. Bernenstein stood in soldierly rigidity
by the door; Rischenheim looked round at him once and met a most
significant gaze.
"You're eating nothing," said the king. "I hope you're not
indisposed?"
"I am a little upset, sire," stammered Rischenheim, and truly
enough.
"Well, tell me about the dogs--while I eat, for I'm hungry."
Rischenheim began to disclose his secret. His statement was
decidedly wanting in clearness. The king grew impatient.
"I don't understand," said he testily, and he pushed his chair
back so quickly that Sapt skipped away, and hid the revolver
behind his back.
"Sire--" cried Rischenheim, half rising. A cough from Lieutenant
von Bernenstein interrupted him.
"Tell it me all over again," said the king. Rischenheim did as he
was bid.
"Ah, I understand a little better now. Do you see, Sapt?" and he
turned his head round towards the constable. Sapt had just time
to whisk the revolver away.
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