"We decide nothing," answered Sapt.
"Then what has Mr.--what has the king decided?"
"The king decides nothing, my lord. She decides," and the old
fellow pointed again through the window towards the moon. "At
this moment she makes or unmakes a king; but I can't tell you
which. What of your cousin?"
"You know that my cousin's dead."
"Yes, I know that. What of him, though?"
"Sir," said Rischenheim with some dignity, "since he is dead, let
him rest in peace. It is not for us to judge him."
"He may well wish it were. For, by Heaven, I believe I should let
the rogue off," said Colonel Sapt, "and I don't think his Judge
will."
"God forgive him, I loved him," said Rischenheim. "Yes, and many
have loved him. His servants loved him, sir."
"Friend Bauer, for example?"
"Yes, Bauer loved him. Where is Bauer?"
"I hope he's gone to hell with his loved master," grunted Sapt,
but he had the grace to lower his voice and shield his mouth with
his hand, so that Rischenheim did not hear.
"We don't know where he is," I answered.
"I am come," said Rischenheim, "to put my services in all
respects at the queen's disposal."
"And at the king's?" asked Sapt.
"At the king's? But the king is dead.
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