Chapter XII
LEOPOLD WAITS FOR DAWN
After the American had shoved him through the secret doorway into
the tower room of the castle of Blentz, Leopold had stood for
several minutes waiting for the next command from his captor. Presently, hearing no sound other than that of his own breathing, the king ventured to speak. He asked the American what he purposed doing with him next.
There was no reply. For another minute the king listened intently; then he raised his hands and removed the bandage from his eyes. He looked about him. The room was vacant except for himself. He recognized it as the one in which he had spent ten years of his life as a prisoner. He shuddered. What had become of the American? He approached the door and listened. Beyond the panels he could hear the two soldiers on guard there conversing. He called to them.
"What do you want?" shouted one of the men through the closed door.
"I want Prince Peter!" yelled the king. "Send him at once!"
The soldiers laughed.
"He wants Prince Peter," they mocked. "Wouldn't you rather have us
send the king to you?" they asked.
"I am the king!" yelled Leopold. "I am the king! Open the door, pigs, or it will go hard with you! I shall have you both shot in the morning if you do not open the door and fetch Prince Peter."
"Ah!" exclaimed one of the soldiers. "Then there will be three of
us shot together."
Leopold went white. He had not connected the sentence of the
American with himself; but now, quite vividly, he realized what it
might mean to him if he failed before dawn to convince someone that
he was not the American. Peter would not be awake at so early an
hour, and if he had no better success with others than he was having
with these soldiers, it was possible that he might be led out and
shot before his identity was discovered. The thing was preposterous. The king's knees became suddenly quite weak. They shook, and his legs gave beneath his weight so that he had to lean against the back of a chair to keep from falling.
Once more he turned to the soldiers. This time he pleaded with
them, begging them to carry word to Prince Peter that a terrible
mistake had been made, and that it was the king and not the American
who was confined in the death chamber. But the soldiers only laughed
at him, and finally threatened to come in and beat him if he again
interrupted their conversation.
It was a white and shaken prisoner that the officer of the guard
found when he entered the room at dawn. The man before him, his face
streaked with tears of terror and self-pity, fell upon his knees
before him, beseeching him to carry word to Peter of Blentz, that he
was the king. The officer drew away with a gesture of disgust.
"I might well believe from your actions that you are Leopold," he
said; "for, by Heaven, you do not act as I have always imagined the
American would act in the face of danger. He has a reputation for
bravery that would suffer could his admirers see him now."
"But I am not the American," pleaded the king. "I tell you that the
American came to my apartments last night, overpowered me, forced me
to change clothing with him, and then led me back here."
A sudden inspiration came to the king with the memory of all that
had transpired during that humiliating encounter with the American.
"I signed a pardon for him!" he cried. "He forced me to do so. If
you think I am the American, you cannot kill me now, for there is a
pardon signed by the king, and an order for the American's immediate
release. Where is it? Do not tell me that Prince Peter did not
receive it."
"He received it," replied the officer, "and I am here to acquaint
you with the fact, but Prince Peter said nothing about your release. All he told me was that you were not to be shot this morning," and the man emphasized the last two words.
Leopold of Lutha spent two awful days a prisoner at Blentz, not
knowing at what moment Prince Peter might see fit to carry out the
verdict of the Austrian court martial. He could convince no one that
he was the king. Peter would not even grant him an audience. Upon
the evening of the third day, word came that the Austrians had been
defeated before Lustadt, and those that were not prisoners were
retreating through Blentz toward the Austrian frontier.