It was the King--King Karl XXII., fat, smiling, smoking, wrapped luxuriously in magnificent furs, and accompanied by his favourites, General Meyer and Robert Saunders. The Grimlanders,--to do them justice,--never received their monarch without noise. They might hoot or they might cheer, they might throw garlands of flowers or nitro-glycerine bombs, but royalty is royalty, whether its representative be hero or villain, and it was never received in the silence of indifference. And at the present moment the throng was benevolent. The day was fine, the occasion interesting, and in the love of sport the Grimland public forgot its antipathy to permanent institutions. "By the way," asked the King of General Meyer, when they had found their way to the royal enclosure overlooking the Rundsee, "did you secure our friend Bernhardt last night?" General Meyer shook his head. "We had a failure," he replied, "another failure." The King received the news without any outward sign of displeasure. Only one who knew him well would have read the deep disappointment of his placid silence. "I thought you had discovered where he lodged," he said at length. "I had discovered the fox's earth," said Meyer, "but my hounds had not strong enough teeth to inconvenience him. I approached a certain Captain of the Guides, a young man of good family and approved courage. I offered substantial rewards, but the work was too dirty for his aristocratic fingers." "Perhaps it would have been wiser to have approached someone of humbler birth," said the King drily. "I was forced to that conclusion myself," sneered the General, "and I requisitioned the services of two of the biggest scoundrels who enjoy the privilege of being your Majesty's subjects. Their consciences were un-tender, but they failed, as _canaille_ will, when they come to hand-grips with a brave man." "In other words," said the King, "two armed ruffians are incapable of tackling one priest. Next time I should try four." "That is what I propose doing to-night, sire," said the General impassively. The King turned to Saunders, who was seated on his left. "What does the Englishman advise?" he asked. "A company of Guards and a squadron of Dragoons," said Saunders curtly. "An open arrest?" demanded his Majesty. "Yes, and an open trial," affirmed Saunders. "After all, simplicity has its charms, and Father Bernhardt's popularity is so great that it can hardly be enhanced by a visit to the picturesque prison in the Cathedral Square." "The Strafeburg!" said Meyer, naming the prison in question. "I fear the good citizens might essay a rescue." "They certainly would," conceded Saunders, "but the Strafeburg was not erected by a speculative builder. It is made of stone, not papier-maché, and the gentlemen who keep guard over it are not armed with pea-shooters." The General nodded sagely. "You mean you would risk bringing things to a head?" he said.