“You told me he was dead,” shouted the king.  “What is the meaning of this, Captain Maenck?”

Maenck looked at his male prisoner and staggered back as though struck between the eyes.

“Mein Gott,” he exclaimed, “the impostor!”

“You told me he was dead,” repeated the king accusingly.

“As God is my judge, your majesty,” cried Peter of Blentz, “this man was shot by an Austrian firing squad in Burgova over a week ago.”

“Sire,” exclaimed Maenck, “this is the first sight I have had of the prisoners except in the darkness of the night; until this instant I had not the remotest suspicion of his identity.  He told me that he was a servant of the house of Von der Tann.”

“I told you the truth, then,” interjected Barney.

“Silence, you ingrate!” cried the king.

“Ingrate?” repeated Barney.  “You have the effrontery to call me an ingrate?  You miserable puppy.”

A silence, menacing in its intensity, fell upon the little assemblage.  The king trembled.  His rage choked him.  The others looked as though they scarce could believe the testimony of their own ears.  All there, with the possible exception of the king, knew that he deserved even more degrading appellations; but they were Europeans, and to Europeans a king is a king—­that they can never forget.  It had been the inherent suggestion of kingship that had bent the knee of the Princess Emma before the man she despised.

But to the American a king was only what he made himself.  In this instance he was not even a man in the estimation of Barney Custer.  Maenck took a step toward the prisoner—­a menacing step, for his hand had gone to his sword.  Barney met him with a level look from between narrowed lids.  Maenck hesitated, for he was a great coward.  Peter of Blentz spoke: 

“Sire,” he said, “the fellow knows that he is already as good as dead, and so in his bravado he dares affront you.  He has been convicted of spying by the Austrians.  He is still a spy.  It is unnecessary to repeat the formality of a trial.”

Leopold at last found his voice, though it trembled and broke as he spoke.

“Carry out the sentence of the Austrian court in the morning,” he said.  “A volley now might arouse the garrison in the town and be misconstrued.”

Maenck ordered Barney escorted from the apartment, then he turned toward the king.

“And the other prisoner, sire?” he inquired.

“There is no other prisoner,” he said.  “Her highness, the Princess von der Tann, is a guest of Prince Peter.  She will be escorted to her apartment at once.”

“Her highness, the Princess von der Tann, is not a guest of Prince Peter.”  The girl’s voice was low and cold.  “If Mr. Custer is a prisoner, her highness, too, is a prisoner.  If he is to be shot, she demands a like fate.  To die by the side of a man would be infinitely preferable to living by the side of your majesty.”