All the time he kept his revolver leveled at the king, from his eyes he had removed the blind after they had entered the apartment.  He crossed to the table where the king had been sitting when he surprised him, motioning the ragged ruler to follow and be seated.

“Take that pen,” he said, “and write a full pardon for Mr. Bernard Custer, and an order requiring that he be furnished with money and set at liberty at dawn.”

The king did as he was bid.  For a moment the American stood looking at him before he spoke again.

“You do not deserve what I am going to do for you,” he said.  “And Lutha deserves a better king than the one my act will give her; but I am neither a thief nor a murderer, and so I must forbear leaving you to your just deserts and return your throne to you.  I shall do so after I have insured my own safety and done what I can for Lutha—­what you are too little a man and king to do yourself.

“So soon as they liberate you in the morning, make the best of your way to Brosnov, on the Serbian frontier.  Await me there.  When I can, I shall come.  Again we may exchange clothing and you can return to Lustadt.  I shall cross over into Siberia out of your reach, for I know you too well to believe that any sense of honor or gratitude would prevent you signing my death-warrant at the first opportunity.  Now, come!”

Once again Barney led the blindfolded king through the dark corridor to the room in the opposite tower—­to the prison of the American.  At the open panel he shoved him into the apartment.  Then he drew the door quietly to, leaving the king upon the inside, and retraced his steps to the royal apartments.  Crossing to the center table, he touched an electric button.  A moment later an officer knocked at the door, which, in the meantime, Barney had unbolted.

“Enter!” said the American.  He stood with his back toward the door until he heard it close behind the officer.  When he turned he was apparently examining his revolver.  If the officer suspected his identity, it was just as well to be prepared.  Slowly he raised his eyes to the newcomer, who stood stiffly at salute.  The officer looked him full in the face.

“I answered your majesty’s summons,” said the man.

“Oh, yes!” returned the American.  “You may fetch the Princess Emma.”

The officer saluted once more and backed out of the apartment.  Barney walked to the table and sat down.  A tin box of cigarettes lay beside the lamp.  Barney lighted one of them.  The king had good taste in the selection of tobacco, he thought.  Well, a man must need have some redeeming characteristics.

Outside, in the corridor, he heard voices, and again the knock at the door.  He bade them enter.  As the door opened Emma von der Tann, her head thrown back and a flush of anger on her face, entered the room.  Behind her was the officer who had been despatched to bring her.  Barney nodded to the latter.