“Who are you?” he demanded.

Before Barney could speak Lieutenant Butzow spoke.

“He is the king, your highness,” he said.  “I rode with him to Blentz to free Mr. Custer.  Both were wounded in the courtyard in the fight that took place there.  I helped to dress their wounds.  The king was wounded in the breast—­Mr. Custer in the left leg.”

Prince von der Tann looked puzzled.  Again he turned his eyes questioningly toward the newcomer.

“Is this the truth?” he asked.

Barney looked toward the Princess Emma.  In her eyes he could read the relief that the sight of him alive had brought her.  Since she had recognized the king she had believed that Barney was dead.  The temptation was great—­he dreaded losing her, and he feared he would lose her when her father learned the truth of the deception that had been practiced upon him.  He might lose even more—­men had lost their heads for tampering with the affairs of kings.

“Well?” persisted the chancellor.

“Lieutenant Butzow is partially correct—­he honestly believes that he is entirely so,” replied the American.  “He did ride with me from Lustadt to Blentz to save the man who lies dead here at your feet.  The lieutenant thought that he was riding with his king, just as your highness thought that he was riding with his king during the battle of Lustadt.  You were both wrong—­you were riding with Mr. Bernard Custer, of Beatrice.  I am he.  I have no apologies to make.  What I did I would do again.  I did it for Lutha and for the woman I love.  She knows and the king knew that I intended restoring his identity to him with no one the wiser for the interchange that had taken place.  The king upset my plans by stealing back his identity while I slept, with the result that you see before you upon the floor.  He has died as he had lived—­futilely.”

As he spoke the Princess Emma had crossed the room toward him.  Now she stood at his side, her hand in his.  Tense silence reigned in the apartment.  The old chancellor stood with bowed head, buried in thought.  All eyes were upon him except those of the doctor, who had turned his attention from the dead king to the wounded assassin.  Butzow stood looking at Barney Custer in open relief and admiration.  He had been trying to vindicate his friend in his own mind ever since he had discovered, as he believed, that Barney had tricked Leopold after the latter had saved his life at Blentz and ridden to Lustadt in the king’s guise.  Now that he knew the whole truth he realized how stupid he had been not to guess that the man who had led the victorious Luthanian army before Lustadt could not have been the cowardly Leopold.

Presently the chancellor broke the silence.

“You say that Leopold of Lutha lived futilely.  You are right; but when you say that he has died futilely, you are, I believe, wrong.  Living, he gave us a poor weakling.  Dying, he leaves the throne to a brave man, in whose veins flows the blood of the Rubinroths, hereditary rulers of Lutha.