"There is but
one way that Leopold of Lutha can serve me now, and that is--dead.
Were his corpse to be carried into the cathedral of Lustadt before
noon today, and were those who fetched it to swear that the king was
killed by the impostor after being dragged from the hospital at
Tafelberg where you and Maenck had located him, and from which you
were attempting to rescue him, I believe that the people would tear
our enemies to pieces. What say you, Coblich?"
The other stared at Peter of Blentz for several seconds while the
atrocity of his chief's plan filtered through his brain.
"My God!" he exclaimed at last. "You mean that you wish me to
murder Leopold with my own hands?"
"You put it too crudely, my dear Coblich," replied the other.
"I cannot do it," muttered Coblich. "I have never killed a man in
my life. I am getting old. No, I could never do it. I should not
sleep nights."
"If it is not done, Coblich, and Leopold comes into his own," said
Peter slowly, "you will be caught and hanged higher than Haman. And
if you do not do it, and the imposter is crowned today, then you
will be either hanged officially or knifed unofficially, and without
any choice in the matter whatsoever. Nothing, Coblich, but the dead
body of the true Leopold can save your neck. You have your choice,
therefore, of letting him live to prove your treason, or letting him
die and becoming chancellor of Lutha.
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