"Yes--you're right!" exclaimed Fritz, his face brightening. "If the
King were dead and buried, they'd all be here with Michael. You know
Michael's back, colonel?"

"I know, curse him!"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," said I, "who are the Six?"

"I think you'll make their acquaintance soon," said Sapt. "They are six
gentlemen whom Michael maintains in his household: they belong to him
body and soul. There are three Ruritanians; then there's a Frenchman, a
Belgian, and one of your countrymen."

"They'd all cut a throat if Michael told them," said Fritz.

"Perhaps they'll cut mine," I suggested.

"Nothing more likely," agreed Sapt. "Who are here, Fritz?"

"De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard."

"The foreigners! It's as plain as a pikestaff. He's brought them, and
left the Ruritanians with the King; that's because he wants to commit
the Ruritanians as deep as he can."

"They were none of them among our friends at the lodge, then?" I asked.

"I wish they had been," said Sapt wistfully. "They had been, not six,
but four, by now."