makes a good King. But you see it's impossible, isn't it?"
James nursed his knee between his hands, and his pipe, which he had replaced, stuck out of one corner of his mouth.
"When you say impossible, sir," he remarked deferentially, "I venture to differ from you."
"You do? Come, we're at leisure. Let's hear how it would be possible."
"My master is in Strelsau, sir," began James.
"Well, most likely."
"I'm sure of it, sir. If he’s seen there, he will be taken for the King."
"That has happened before, and no doubt may happen again, unless"
"Why, of course, sir, unless the King's body should be discovered."
"That's what I was about to say, James."
James kept silence for a few minutes. Then he observed:
"It will be very awkward to explain how the King was killed."
"The story will need good telling," admitted Sapt.
"And it will be difficult to make it appear that the King was killed in Strelsau; yet if my master should chance to be killed in Strelsau"
"Heaven forbid, James! On all grounds, Heaven forbid!"
