A Mummer's Throne by Fred M. White

The moment's delay was distinctly in King Fritz's favour. He stood there with his foot on the prostrate rascal's neck. He had his back to a friendly wall now, so that his other assailants could see down the grim mouth of the revolver barrel. A second later, and some one came hurrying up the street. The other two men glanced at one another involuntarily and vanished. Evidently discretion was the better part of valour in this case. The king suffered the man at his feet to crawl away. He smiled grimly as he recognised the figure of Florizel coming towards him.

"You were right and I was wrong," he said. "But it was a close call. I recognised Schentein right enough. I shall have an account to settle with that gentleman later on. But all these things prove to me that there is no time to be lost. Have you seen Pierre Bentos?"