the king would have been equally raw to the business (we worked through the whole corps diplomatique in the next few days, a demise of the crown necessitating all this bother).
Then, at last, I was left alone. I called my new servant (we had chosen, to succeed poor Josef, a young man who had never known the king), had a brandy and soda brought to me, and observed to Sapt that I trusted that I might now have a rest.
Fritz von Tarlenheim was standing by.
"By Heaven!" he cried, "we waste time. Aren't we going to throw Black Michael by the heels?"
"Gently, my son, gently," said Sapt, knitting his brows. "It would be a pleasure, but it might cost us dear. Would Michael fall and leave the king alive?"
"And," I suggested, "while the king is here in Strelsau, on his throne, what grievance has he against his dear brother Michael?"
"Are we to do nothing, then?"
"We're to do nothing stupid," growled Sapt
"In fact, Fritz," said I, "I am reminded of a
