"I have lost the key, sire, like the fool I am," said the Colonel.
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
