XV
A JOB FOR CAPTAIN HERCULES
"HIS Majesty dies to-morrow!"
Stafnitz's words seemed to freeze them all stiff where they stood; even Countess Ellenburg's sobs, which had threatened to break forth again, were arrested in their flow.
"Markart, lock the door leading to the King's apartments. Natch eff and Lepage, carry the King into his bedroom; lay him on the bed; stay there till I call you. Countess, General, I invite your earnest attention."
Stenovics's mind excelled in the waiting game, the slow, tortuous approach, the inch-by-inch advance of leisurely diplomacy. For him this crisis was at first too sudden. The swift and daring intellect of Stafnitz naturally and inevitably took the lead; his strong will fascinated his confederates.
"Is this to be the beginning or the end?" he asked.
"For us and our friends—which? If we send a courier to Praslok to call King Sergius to his capital what then? For you, Countess, and your son, oblivion and obscurity at Dobrava for all the rest of your life, just that! For you, General, and for me, and our friends—yes, you too, Markart!—our congé, more or less civilly given. There won't be more insignificant men in all Slavna on the day King Sergius enters. But there's no King Sergius yet!"
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