“You will be the greatest swordsman in the world when you are twenty, my son,”

“You are Leopold Rubinroth, sire, by the grace of God, king of Lutha,” cried the frightened man. “Have mercy on an old man, your majesty.”

How long he slept he did not know, but some time during the night he was awakened by the sound of voices apparently close to his ear.

“I am no king’s man,”

“Do not make an outcry,” he whispered in very poor Serbian. “I am not Stefan; but I am a friend.”

“Pardon me, general,” interrupted Maenck. “I am well acquainted with Mr. Custer, who spent some time in Lutha a couple of years ago. This man is not he.”

Barney clung to him for several minutes longer, until there was not the slightest indication of remaining life.

“You forget yourself, Prince von der Tann,” he cried. “Leave our presence. When we again desire to be insulted we shall send for you.”

Leopold shook his head. “You do not know her,” he said. “You do not know the Von der Tann nature—one cannot force a Von der Tann.”

He advanced from behind his tree until he saw the two figures—a man’s and a woman’s.

“If that be the case,” said Norman of Torn, “we shall have war and fighting in real earnest ere many months.”

“The cowards!” muttered Barney as the enemy’s shot announced his sinister intention; “they might have hit your highness.”

He was fully dressed and in armor, as he had been when struck down, but his helmet was gone, as were also his sword and dagger.

“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.”

“Outlaw or Devil,” said a stern voice behind them, “Roger Leybourn owes you his friendship for saving the honor of his home.”

“We have thought of everything,” interrupted Barney. “A throne means less to us than you may imagine, count; but the honor of Lutha means a great deal.”

“I be no madman, Your Majesty. Never did brain work more clearly or to more certain ends,” replied the man.

“You may trust me, sire,” he whispered.

“The king is dead,” he said. “Long live the king!”

“Let the King of Lutha,” he said, “be the first to salute Lutha’s queen.”