and in an instant the thought of a trap seemed to flash across his alert mind. He drew the revolver half-way from his belt, probably in a scarcely conscious movement born of the desire to assure himself of its presence. With a cry of alarm Herbert flung himself before the King, who sank back on the bed. Rupert, puzzled, vexed, yet half-amused (for he smiled still, the man said), took a step forward, crying out something about Rischenheim—what, Herbert could not tell us. "Keep back," exclaimed the King: "keep back!" Rupert paused; then as though with a sudden thought he held up the box that was in his left hand, saying:

"Well, look at this, sire, and we'll talk afterwards," and he stretched out his hand with the box in it.

Now the thing stood on a razor's edge, for the King whispered to Herbert:

"What is it? Go and take it."

But Herbert hesitated, fearing to leave the King, whom his body now protected as though with a shield. Rupert's impatience overcame him: if there were a trap, every moment's delay doubled his danger. With a scornful laugh he exclaimed:

"Catch it, then, if you're afraid to come for it," and he flung the packet to Herbert or the King, or which of them might chance to catch it.