The Lighted Match

Yet five minutes later, Jusseret, escorted by several officers in the

Galavian uniform, entered the garden through the door of the King's

private suite. At the monstrous insolence of this forbidden invasion of

Karyl's privacy, Von Ritz stepped forward. His voice was even colder

than usual with the chill of mortal fury.

"You have evidently misunderstood. The King declined to receive you--"

he began.

Karyl turned his head and looked curiously on. The keen, dissipated eyes

of the sub-rosa diplomat twinkled humorously. For a moment the thin lips

twisted into a wry smile.

"The King is hardly in a position that warrants declining to receive

me," he announced with an ironically ceremonious bow to Karyl. He was

imperturbable and impeccable from his patent-leather pumps to the Legion

of Honor ribbon in his lapel.

"I offer the King an opportunity to abdicate his throne--and retain his

liberty. Not only do I offer him his liberty, but also such an income as

will make the cafés of Paris possible, and the society of other

gentlemen who are also--well, let us say retired Royalties. I do this in

the capacity of a private friend of the Grand Duke Louis Delgado." His

smile was bland, suave, undisturbed.

Von Ritz took a step forward.

"Escort Monsieur Jusseret to the Palace gates!" he commanded, his eyes

blazing on the Galavian officers. "The persons of even secret

Ambassadors are sacred--otherwise--" His voice failed him.

The officers cringed back under his glance, but stood supine and

inactive.

Karyl waited with a cold smile on his lips. His face was pale but there

was no touch of fear in the expression. For a brief psychological moment

there was absolute silence, then the Frenchman spoke again. "Gentlemen,

you are my prisoners." Turning to the Colonel, he added: "You have clung

to the waning dynasty, Von Ritz, until it fell, but your sword may still

find service in Galavia. I offer you the opportunity. We have often

crossed wits. Now, for the first time, I win--and offer amnesty."

For a moment Von Ritz stood white and trembling with rage, then with his

open hand he struck the smiling face that seemed to float tauntingly

before his eyes, and drawing his sword, stepped between the King and the

suddenly concentrated group of officers who moved frontward with a

single accord, hands on swords. They spread from a group into a line,

and the line quickly closed in a circle around the King and the one man

who remained loyal.

Karyl was himself unarmed. He raised a restraining hand to Von Ritz's

shoulder, but before he could speak his head sagged forward under the

impact of some sudden shock--some blow from behind--and things went dark

about him as he crumpled to his knees and fell.