be exactly inconvenient for Black Michael if you disappeared. With you gone the old game that we stopped would be played—or he'd have a shot at it."
"I can take care of myself."
"De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard are in Strelsau; and any one of them, lad, would cut your throat as readily—as readily as I would Black Michael's and a deal more treacherously. What's the letter?"
I opened it and read it aloud:
If the king desires to know what it deeply concerns the king to know, let him do as this letter bids him. At the end of the New Avenue there stands a house in large grounds. The house has a portico, with a statue of a nymph in it. A wall incloses the garden; there is a gate in the wall at the back. At twelve o'clock to-night, if the king enters alone by that gate, turns to the right, and walks twenty yards, he will find a summerhouse, approached by a flight of six steps. If he mounts and enters, he will find someone who will tell him what touches most dearly his life and his throne. This is written by a faithful friend. He must be alone. If he neglects the invitation, his life will be in danger. Let him show this to no one, or he will ruin a woman who loves him; Black Michael does not pardon.
"No," observed Sapt as I ended, "but he can dictate a very pretty letter."
