"You must let go," he said gently. "I have much to do."
I took her by the arm and induced her to rise. Rudolf, released,
passed on to where the old woman stood. He spoke to her in a
stern, distinct voice.
"I don't know," he said, "how far you are a party to the plot
that was hatched in your house. For the present I am content not
to know, for it is no pleasure to me to detect disloyalty or to
punish an old woman. But take care! The first word you speak, the
first act you do against me, the king, will bring its certain and
swift punishment. If you trouble me, I won't spare you. In spite
of traitors I am still king in Strelsau."
He paused, looking hard in her face. Her lip quivered and her
eyes fell.
"Yes," he repeated, "I am king in Strelsau. Keep your hands out
of mischief and your tongue quiet."
She made no answer. He passed on. I was following, but as I went
by her the old woman clutched my arm. "In God's name, who is he?"
she whispered.
"Are you mad?" I asked, lifting my brows. "Don't you know the
king when he speaks to you? And you'd best remember what he said.
He has servants who'll do his orders."
She let me go and fell back a step. Young Bernenstein smiled at
her; he at least found more pleasure than anxiety in our
position.
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