Yet five minutes later, Jusseret, escorted by several officers in the
Galavian uniform, entered the garden through the door of the King's
private suite. At the monstrous insolence of this forbidden invasion of
Karyl's privacy, Von Ritz stepped forward. His voice was even colder
than usual with the chill of mortal fury.
"You have evidently misunderstood. The King declined to receive you--"
he began.
Karyl turned his head and looked curiously on. The keen, dissipated eyes
of the sub-rosa diplomat twinkled humorously. For a moment the thin lips
twisted into a wry smile.
"The King is hardly in a position that warrants declining to receive
me," he announced with an ironically ceremonious bow to Karyl. He was
imperturbable and impeccable from his patent-leather pumps to the Legion
of Honor ribbon in his lapel.
"I offer the King an opportunity to abdicate his throne--and retain his
liberty. Not only do I offer him his liberty, but also such an income as
will make the cafés of Paris possible, and the society of other
gentlemen who are also--well, let us say retired Royalties. I do this in
the capacity of a private friend of the Grand Duke Louis Delgado." His
smile was bland, suave, undisturbed.
Von Ritz took a step forward.
"Escort Monsieur Jusseret to the Palace gates!" he commanded, his eyes
blazing on the Galavian officers. "The persons of even secret
Ambassadors are sacred--otherwise--" His voice failed him.
The officers cringed back under his glance, but stood supine and
inactive.
Karyl waited with a cold smile on his lips. His face was pale but there
was no touch of fear in the expression. For a brief psychological moment
there was absolute silence, then the Frenchman spoke again. "Gentlemen,
you are my prisoners." Turning to the Colonel, he added: "You have clung
to the waning dynasty, Von Ritz, until it fell, but your sword may still
find service in Galavia. I offer you the opportunity. We have often
crossed wits. Now, for the first time, I win--and offer amnesty."
For a moment Von Ritz stood white and trembling with rage, then with his
open hand he struck the smiling face that seemed to float tauntingly
before his eyes, and drawing his sword, stepped between the King and the
suddenly concentrated group of officers who moved frontward with a
single accord, hands on swords. They spread from a group into a line,
and the line quickly closed in a circle around the King and the one man
who remained loyal.
Karyl was himself unarmed. He raised a restraining hand to Von Ritz's
shoulder, but before he could speak his head sagged forward under the
impact of some sudden shock--some blow from behind--and things went dark
about him as he crumpled to his knees and fell.