The Ludwig Conspiracy(129)

By means of small notes stuck to the underside of plates and serving dishes, we had let the king know about plans for his escape. Ludwig was to persuade Gudden to take a walk beside the lake. At the sound of a whistle, he was to shake off Gudden and wade a few yards into the deep water, where we could finally pick him up in a boat. Not a bad plan, except that there was no sign of the king all that Saturday. And at first we waited in vain on Whitsunday as well.

“Gudden is scared stiff of going out,” growled Hornig, while the rain dripped off his hat and into the boat. Together with Kaulbach, Loewenfeld, and me, the equerry was in the smallest of the three boats. It was nearly midday already, and still nothing had happened, except that the showers had given way, for the time being, to a slight drizzle. A stormy wind whipped up the surface of the lake into small waves.

“Our informants have told us that the psychologist is rather nervous,” Hornig went on. “Dr. von Gudden has obviously had a long conversation with His Majesty and realizes that Ludwig isn’t as crazy as he thought. Now he sees his hopes dashed.”

“As long as they keep Ludwig locked up in Berg, no one will ever know that he is not crazy,” interjected Kaulbach the painter. “The ministers will probably build a wall around the castle and make it the most expensive prison in Bavaria.”

“Or else they’ll kill him.”

It was Dr. Schleiss von Loewenfeld who had spoken. All at once there was complete silence in the boat. Not a sound was heard but the steady pattering of the rain.

“Kill . . . kill him?” I asked. “Kill the king?”

“Think about it, gentlemen.” The old physician looked sadly around at us. “The whole affair is nothing but a failed coup d’état. The king has been certified insane, and now they realize that he is not. If we don’t get him out, Ludwig will probably demand a second opinion from the castle. He will turn to Bismarck and stake his claim to have his throne back. And Lutz and the other ministers . . .”

“Will be arraigned for high treason. Damn it all, you’re right.” Hornig spat into the murky water. “Yes, I can believe that this villainous gang would murder their own king and make it look like suicide by a man with the balance of his mind disturbed.”

“If we don’t rescue him first. There—see for yourself.” Hermann Kaulbach pointed to the bank, where several figures were emerging from the trees. I held my breath.

Gudden and the king were there, but with guards.

We had expected that the psychiatrist wouldn’t move from Ludwig’s side. But Dr. Bernhard von Gudden was already more than sixty, and a small, frail figure. It would have been easy for the king, at just under six feet tall, to overpower him and get away. That was not the case, however, with the powerful attendant and the armed gendarme, who were both keeping to the background but could be seen well enough behind the bushes in the park.

“Confound it all!” said Richard Hornig under his breath. “As long as that madhouse attendant and the venal police officer stay so close to the king, we can’t make the attempt. They might well level firearms at His Majesty.”

“But who knows whether such an opportunity for flight will come again?” I objected. I was suffering from a slight shivering fit, but I tried not to let it show. Nonetheless, my voice sounded tired and shaky. “This could be the last walk Ludwig will take for a very long time.”

“We must risk that.” Dr. Loewenfeld put away the field glasses that he had just been using to watch the bank. “That police officer is looking our way. Presumably he’s suspicious. We ought to send the other two boats away, in any event. Three small craft together are too conspicuous.”

“You’re right.” Richard Hornig gave the other two boats a sign to turn away. “This boat will have to be enough. And now let’s pray that His Majesty appears in the park again in more favorable circumstances. We should also take a few security precautions.”

In a few words, he told us his plan.





AT EXACTLY QUARTER to seven in the evening, we had our second chance.

This time our boat was waiting very close to the bank, behind a small promontory densely overgrown by reeds and willow, so that from the bank it was out of sight. Meanwhile, I had hidden in the undergrowth of the park to keep an eye on the situation and give the boat a signal when the police officers and attendants were far enough from the king. Only then would we risk the attempt at flight.

The rain had almost stopped now, and dark gray clouds covered the sky, casting a gloomy twilight over the park. I was crouching behind a bush near the path and felt the damp slowly creeping up my back. I kept taking out my pocket watch, but the hands were moving at a snail’s pace. I felt as if I had been sitting behind this bush for days. My limbs hurt, and a slight fever made me shiver all over.