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"Of course it was prearranged, when and how and does Sobieska know? If he doesn't, Josef has correspondents unknown to Krovitch that alone looks dangerous. I'll look up Sobieska. It's now twenty minutes of two," he said as he consulted his watch. A swift inspiration caused him suddenly to raise his head. "I've got it. The house is all still now. Two two two o'clock, that's the solution.
The one who came from the back part of the house was dark, black eyebrows, heavy black beard, pallid face, or so it looked in the moonlight. The visitor was undoubtedly Russian." "It may have been soot," said Sobieska musingly.
"I didn't hear them," responded Sobieska, "but Josef reported them as reinforcements from the Rifles for the frontier. There may have been some cannon, but not as many as you think. He dare not weaken his strength that way." "It seemed to me," said Carter dubiously, "that they marched from the frontier, not toward it. But how did Josef come to report it? Where was the officer of the guard?"
He strove to put down the distrust that he was certain no one present shared with him, for on every countenance, save that of Sobieska who was gazing idly out of a window, he read a story of affection for the man who had done this thing for Krovitch. "And the new king," he questioned lightly, avoiding the issue raised, "has he, too, married a maid of Krovitch?"
Sobieska ran to the door. "Stop Josef before he gets to the road," he cried to the sergeant, who seemed utterly amazed at such a command. "Excellency," he replied, "Josef never passed me through this door." Trusia approached the excited Minister. "It is no use to attempt to stop him," she said with a shake of the head. "He knows of the secret passage to the inn.
He was very cordial; as cordial as a dangerous Russian always is." Sobieska, in assenting, drew in his breath with a sibilant sound through pursed lips. "I have every reason to believe he has been transferred to the White Police," he commented gravely, as he turned his listless glance toward the girl. "Any one with him did he give any inkling that he suspected anything?"
Here Sobieska glanced covertly at Carter to see the effect of this disclosure. The American's face, however, was as stoical as an Indian's. "He produced the historic documents of Stovik's right to the crown the traditional proof of embassy. He preached a war on Russia and the rehabilitation of Krovitch. Our people were aroused. For our country's sake, our lady yielded.
With a laugh which dismissed the subject, Sobieska turned to Carter. "It seems to me," he said, "we're allowing an absent servant to monopolize considerable of our conversation. Let's talk of something else." "Have you any conception of His Majesty's, the King's, personality?" asked Carter. "We were shown a photograph by Josef. Certainly a handsome fellow. An artist."
"Where did you get the title of Captain your man gave you a while ago?" "I have no real right to it, never claim it," replied the American, "though at one time I bore it as of right in the Spanish-American war. It is the American habit never to let a man forget a title he has once won through merit." Sobieska bowed. "What brought you to Krovitch? It is outside the usual route of tourists."
Sobieska turned an indulgently commiserating smile on Carter. "Haven't you heard?" he asked as he lightly flicked the ash from his morning cigar. Carter pleaded ignorance. The Privy Counselor drew close to his shoulder and spoke in a confidential tone. "Josef has made himself indispensable to His Majesty.
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