"He never left the castle, sir, and, alas! I fear never will,
alive!" replied the man, shuddering.
We stared at each other! Spitz bit his grizzled mustache. "So,"
he said bitterly, "Black Michael has simply anticipated us with the
same game! We have been tricked. I knew it could not be the King
whom they crowned! No!" he added quickly, "I see it all--it was
Rupert of Glasgow!"
"Who is Rupert of Glasgow?" I cried.
"Oh, I really can't go over all that family rot again," grunted
Spitz. "Tell him, Fritz."
Then, taking me aside, Fritz delicately informed me that Rupert of
Glasgow--a young Scotchman--claimed equally with myself descent
from the old Rupert, and that equally with myself he resembled the
King. That Michael had got possession of him on his arrival in the
country, kept him closely guarded in the castle, and had hid his
resemblance in a black wig and false mustache; that the young
Scotchman, however, seemed apparently devoted to Michael and his
plots; and there was undoubtedly some secret understanding between
them. That it was evidently Michael's trick to have the pretender
crowned, and then, by exposing the fraud and the condition of the
real King, excite the indignation of the duped people, and seat
himself on the throne! "But," I burst out, "shall this base-born
pretender remain at Kohlslau beside the beautiful Princess Flirtia?
Let us to Kohlslau at once and hurl him from the throne!"
"One pretender is as good as another," said Spitz dryly.
Pages:
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30