SOPHY OF KRAVONIA
the boulevard and the Street of the Fountain meet. He opened the garden gate and walked in. Spent as he was, he breathed a "Bravo!" when he saw a light burning in the hall. He staggered on, rang the bell, and fairly fell in a lump outside the door.
He had done well; he, a man of peace, busy with clothes—he had done well that night! But he was finished. When Zerkovitch opened the door, he found little more than a heap of dank and dirty raiment; he hauled it in and shut the door. He supported Lepage into the study, sat him down by the fire, and got brandy for him to drink, pouring out full half a tumbler. Lepage took it and drank the better part of it at a gulp.
"The King died at five o'clock, Monsieur Zerkovitch," he said. He drank the rest, let the tumbler fall with a crash in the fender, buried his head on his breast, and fell into blank unconsciousness.
He was out of the battle—as much as Markart, who slept the clock round in spite of Stenovics's shakings and Dr. Natcheff's rubbings and stimulants. But he had done his part. It was for Zerkovitch to do his now.
The King had died at five o'clock? It was certainly odd, that story, because Zerkovitch had just returned from the offices of The Patriot; and, immediately before he left, he had sent down to the foreman-printer an official communiqué, to be inserted in his paper. It was to the effect that Captain Mistitch and a guard of honor of fifty men would leave Slavna next morning at seven o'clock for Dobra va, to be in readiness to receive the King, who had made magnificent progress, and was about to proceed to his country seat to complete his convalescence.
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