Part 5 (1/2)
”We've spent half an hour on him,” said Fritz
”He drank three tirowled Sapt
I knelt down and felt his pulse It was alaruid and slow We three looked at one another
”Was it drugged--that last bottle?” I asked in a whisper
”I don't know,” said Sapt
”We et a doctor”
”There's none within ten miles, and a thousand doctors wouldn't take him to Strelsau today I know the look of it He'll not move for six or seven hours yet”
”But the coronation!” I cried in horror
Fritz shrugged his shoulders, as I began to see was his habit on most occasions
”We must send word that he's ill,” he said
”I suppose so,” said I
Old Sapt, who see hard at it
”If he's not crowned today,” said he, ”I'll lay a crown he's never crowned”
”But heavens, why?”
”The whole nation's there to meet him; half the army--ay, and Black Michael at the head Shall we send word that the King's drunk?”
”That he's ill,” said I, in correction
”Ill!” echoed Sapt, with a scornful laugh ”They know his illnesses too well He's been 'ill' before!”
”Well, we must chance what they think,” said Fritz helplessly ”I'll carry the news and make the best of it”
Sapt raised his hand
”Tell ed?”
”I do,” said I
”And who drugged him?”