"Then," I went on, "I took the keys out of the dead man's pocket, and arraying myself in the Napoleon cloak, the huge collar of which I drew up to my ears, and clapping the hat on my head, well down over my eyes, I made my way to the front door. The man in charge was still at his post, and looked up for a moment on hearing me turn the key in the lock, but seeing the hat and cloak of his leader, did not trouble himself to look again. Making a show of locking the door, I turned, and with my head sunk on my chest, my legs straddled apart in imitation of the Dumpling, and my hand--the right--holding the dagger behind me, I walked slowly towards him. He slipped the paper he had been reading into his pocket, and rose, as if to open the door for me, but, before shooting back the bolt, he turned, and raising his hand soldier-wise in salute, said: "Shall I send word, sir, that----" "He stopped short with a sudden gasp of surprise, realising, as his eyes fell upon me, that something was wrong; but, before he could utter a word or raise a hand, my dagger was in his heart." Again Kate reeled, as if about to faint. "More blood on your hands! Another life taken! The first, perhaps, _had_ to be, but this man had done no direct harm, this man----" "Kate," I interrupted her sternly, "this, too, as you put it, '_had_ to be.' The issues at stake were too tremendous to justify me in running any risk. And this man was an English-speaking foreign mercenary, whom I, with my own eyes, saw deliberately murder two policemen and a soldier in cold blood and without mercy." "And the King?" she gasped, white to the lips. "The King," I said, "is safe. I stayed only to put the body out of sight, and to cover up the traces of the tragedy, before going back to set him free. The rising is over. It is the King himself who has given it its death-blow. When the contingent of rioters, who had succeeded in passing the barriers, reached Buckingham Palace, the King declared his intention of going out himself to meet them. Notwithstanding the Queen's tears, the Prince's entreaties, his Ministers' prayers, he refused to be turned from his purpose. "'I am not afraid of my people,' he said unconcernedly, 'and I do not think my people will harm me.' "Walking to a window on the ground floor, he threw it up, and standing upon a chair in sight of all, spoke to the crowd. "'My friends!' he said. 'My people, whom I have loved, and who have never yet before failed in love to me, you have been misled by a madman and a murderer, who is now dead. The uproar began with him, and with his death it will assuredly end. Your leaders, those who have planned and carried out this treason and this devilry, and those who have shed blood, must answer to the law for what they have done, and must answer, it may be, with their lives.