The king trembled. His rage choked him. The others
looked as though they scarce could believe the testimony of their
own ears. All there, with the possible exception of the king, knew
that he deserved even more degrading appellations; but they were
Europeans, and to Europeans a king is a king--that they can never
forget. It had been the inherent suggestion of kingship that had
bent the knee of the Princess Emma before the man she despised.
But to the American a king was only what he made himself. In this
instance he was not even a man in the estimation of Barney Custer.
Maenck took a step toward the prisoner--a menacing step, for his
hand had gone to his sword. Barney met him with a level look from
between narrowed lids. Maenck hesitated, for he was a great coward.
Peter of Blentz spoke:
"Sire," he said, "the fellow knows that he is already as good as
dead, and so in his bravado he dares affront you. He has been
convicted of spying by the Austrians. He is still a spy. It is
unnecessary to repeat the formality of a trial."
Leopold at last found his voice, though it trembled and broke as he
spoke.
"Carry out the sentence of the Austrian court in the morning," he
said. "A volley now might arouse the garrison in the town and be
misconstrued."
Maenck ordered Barney escorted from the apartment, then he turned
toward the king.
"And the other prisoner, sire?" he inquired.
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