General Petko squared his shoulders and bowed in assent.  At the same time he reached into his breast-pocket for the ultimatum.

“Good!” exclaimed Barney, and then he leaned close to the ear of the Serbian.  “How long will it take to move that army corps to Lustadt?”

General Petko gasped and returned the ultimatum to his pocket.

“Sire!” he cried, his face lighting with incredulity.  “You mean—­”

“I mean,” said the American, “that if Serbia will loan Lutha an army corps until the Austrians have evacuated Luthanian territory, Lutha will loan Serbia an army corps until such time as peace is declared between Serbia and Austria.  Other than this neither government will incur any obligations to the other.

“We may not need your help, but it will do us no harm to have them well on the way toward Lustadt as quickly as possible.  Count Zellerndorf will be here in a few minutes.  We shall, through him, give Austria twenty-four hours to withdraw all her troops beyond our frontiers.  The army of Lutha is mobilized before Lustadt.  It is not a large army, but with the help of Serbia it should be able to drive the Austrians from the country, provided they do not leave of their own accord.”

General Petko smiled.  So did the American and the chancellor.  Each knew that Austria would not withdraw her army from Lutha.

“With your majesty’s permission I will withdraw,” said the Serbian, “and transmit Lutha’s proposition to my government; but I may say that your majesty need have no apprehension but that a Serbian army corps will be crossing into Lutha before noon today.”

“And now, Prince Ludwig,” said the American after the Serbian had bowed himself out of the apartment, “I suggest that you take immediate steps to entrench a strong force north of Lustadt along the road to Blentz.”

Von der Tann smiled as he replied.  “It is already done, sire,” he said.

“But I passed in along the road this morning,” said Barney, “and saw nothing of such preparations.”

“The trenches and the soldiers were there, nevertheless, sire,” replied the old man, “only a little gap was left on either side of the highway that those who came and went might not suspect our plans and carry word of them to the Austrians.  A few hours will complete the link across the road.”

“Good!  Let it be completed at once.  Here is Count Zellerndorf now,” as the minister was announced.

Von der Tann bowed himself out as the Austrian entered the king’s presence.  For the first time in two years the chancellor felt that the destiny of Lutha was safe in the hands of her king.  What had caused the metamorphosis in Leopold he could not guess.  He did not seem to be the same man that had whined and growled at their last audience a week before.

The Austrian minister entered the king’s presence with an expression of ill-concealed surprise upon his face.  Two days before he had left Leopold safely ensconced at Blentz, where he was to have remained indefinitely.  He glanced hurriedly about the room in search of Prince Peter or another of the conspirators who should have been with the king.  He saw no one.  The king was speaking.  The Austrian’s eyes went wider, not only at the words, but at the tone of voice.