SOPHY OF KRAVONIA
Stenovics was regaining the use of his brain; his eyes grew distant in deep meditation. Countess Ellenburg looked eager and grim; her lips could not swear a false oath—well, she was not asked to swear any oath now. Markart could not think; he stood staring at Stafnitz.
"In half an hour that courier must start for Praslok, if he starts at all. Of all things, we mustn't hesitate."
He had painted the result to them of the coming of King Sergius; it meant the defeat of years of effort; it entailed the end of hopes, of place, of power or influence. There was no future for those three in Kravonia if King Sergius came. And Markart, of
course, seemed no more than one of Stenovics's train.
"And if the courier doesn't start?" asked Stenovics. He took out and lit a cigar, asking no leave of the Countess; probably he hardly knew that he was smoking it.
Stafnitz looked at his watch. "Five o'clock! We have twenty-four hours—it would be risky to keep the secret longer. There's not much time; we must be prompt. But we mustn't sacrifice anything to hurry. For instance, it would look odd to present the King's orders to Baroness Dobrava in the middle of the night! She'd smell a rat, if she's as clever as they say. And so would the Prince, I think. I could have a hundred men at Praslok by midnight, but I shouldn't propose to have them there before eleven o'clock to-morrow. Well, they could be back here by five in the afternoon! In the course of the day we'll occupy all the important points of the city with troops we can trust. Then, in the evening—as soon as we see how matters have gone at Praslok we proclaim King Alexis!"
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