CHAPTER 4 - The King Keeps His Appointment
Whether I had slept a minute or a year I knew not. I awoke with a start and a shiver; my face, hair and clothes dripped water, and opposite me stood old Sapt, a sneering smile on his face and an empty bucket in his hand. On the table by him sat Fritz von Tarlenheim, pale as a ghost and black as a crow under the eyes.
I leapt to my feet in anger.
“ Your joke goes too far, sir!” I cried.
“ Tut, man, we’ve no time for quarrelling. Nothing else would rouse you. It’s five o’clock.”
“ I’ll thank you, Colonel Sapt—” I began again, hot in spirit, though I was uncommonly cold in body.
“ Rassendyll,” interrupted Fritz, getting down from the table and taking my arm, “look here.”
The King lay full length on the floor. His face was red as his hair,
