 CHAPTER XIII of Rupert of Hentzow Rupert of Hentzow CHAPTER XIII A KING UP HIS SLEEVE The tall handsome girl was taking down the shutters from the shop-front at number nineteen in the Koenigstrasse. She went about her work languidly enough, but there was a tinge of dusky red on her cheeks, and her eyes were brightened by some suppressed excitement. Her mother-holf, leaning against the counter, was grumbling angrily because Barre did not come. Now, it was not likely that Barre would come just yet, for he was still in the infirmary attached to the police-cells, where a couple of doctors were very busy setting him on his legs again. The old woman knew nothing of this, but only that he had gone the night before to reconnoitre, where he was to play the spy she did not know, on whom perhaps she guessed. You're sure she never came back? She asked her daughter. He never came back that I saw, answered the girl, and I was on the watch with my lamp here in the shop till it grew light. He's twelve hours gone now, and never a message. I and Count Rupert should be here soon, and he'll be enough fine taking if Barre is not back. The girl made no answer. She had finished her task, and stood in the doorway, looking out on the street. It was past eight, and many people were about. Still, for the most part, humble folk. The more comfortably placed would not be moving for an hour or two yet. In the road the traffic consisted chiefly of country carts and wagons, bringing in produce for the days whittling of the great city. The girl watched the stream, but her thoughts were occupied with the stately gentleman who had come to her by night and asked to service of her. She had heard the revolver shot outside. As it sounded, she had blown out her lamp, and there behind the door in the dark had heard the swiftly retreating feet of the fugitives, and a little later the arrival of the patrol. Well, the patrol would not dare to touch the king, and as for Barre, let him be alive or dead. What cared she? Who was the king's servant, able to help the king against his enemies? If Barre were the king's enemy, right glad would she be to hear that the road was dead. How finally the king had caught him by the neck and thrown him out! She laughed to think how little her mother knew the company she had kept that night. The row of country carts moved slowly by. One or two stopped before the shop, and the carters offered vegetables for sale. The old woman would have nothing to say to them, but waved them on irritably. Three had thus stopped and again proceeded, and an impatient grumble broke from the old lady as a fourth, a covered wagon, drew up before the door. We don't want anything, go on, go on with you! She cried shrilly. The carter got down from his seat without heeding her, and walked round to the back. There you are, sir! He cried, 19, Koenigstrasse. A yawn was heard, and the long, sire man gives as he stretches himself in the mingled luxury and pain of an awakening after a sound refreshing sleep. All right, I'll get down, came in answer from inside. Oh, it's a count! said the old lady to her daughter in satisfied tones. What will he say, though, about that rogue bower? Rupert of Hentzer put his head out from under the wagon tilt, looked up and down the street, gave the carter a couple of crowns, leapt down, and ran lightly across the pavement into the little shop. The wagon moved on. A lucky thing I met him, said Rupert cheerily. The wagon hid me very well, and handsome as my face is, I can't let Strelso enjoy too much of it just now. Well, mother, what cheer? And you, my pretty, how goes it with you? He carelessly brushed the girl's cheek with the glove that he had drawn off. Faith, though, I beg your pardon. He handed the moment later. The glove's not clean enough for that. And he looked at his buff glove, which was stained with patches of dull, rusty brown. He told us when you left Count Rupert, said Mother Hove, except that rascal bower went out last night. That's right enough, but hasn't he returned? No, not yet. Ah, no signs of anybody else? His look defined the vague question. The old woman shook her head. The girl turned away to hide a smile. Anybody else meant the king, so she suspected. Well, they should hear nothing from her. The king himself had charged her to be silent. Bartricenheim has come, I suppose. Pursued Rupert. Oh, yes, he came, my lord. Soon after you went. He wears his arm in a sling. Ah, cried Rupert in sudden excitement, as I guessed the devil. If only I could do everything myself and not have to trust the fools and bunglers. Where's the Count? Why, in the attic, you know the way. True, but I want some breakfast, mother. Rousers will serve you at once, my lord. The girl followed Rupert up the narrow, crazy staircase of the tall old house. They passed three floors, all uninhabited, a last, steep flight that brought them right under the debauched roof. Rupert opened the door that stood at the top of the stairs, and followed still by Rosa, with her mysterious happy smile, entered a long, narrow room. The ceiling, high in the centre, sloped rapidly down on either side, so that at door and window it was little more than six feet above the floor. There was an oak table and a few chairs. A couple of iron bedsteads stood by the wall near the window. One was empty. The Count of Lutzau-Rischenheim lay on the other, fully dressed, his right arm supported in the sling of black silk. Rupert paused on the threshold, smiling at his cousin. The girl passed on to a high press, or cupboard, and opening it took out plates, glasses and the other furniture of the table. Rupert sprang up and ran across the room. �What news!� he cried eagerly. �You escaped them, Rupert!� �It appears, sir� said Rupert airily, and advancing into the room he threw himself into a chair, tossing his hat onto the table. �It appears that I escaped, although some fool's stupidity nearly made an end of me� Rischenheim flushed. �I'll tell you about that directly� he said, glancing at the girl who had put some cold meat and a bottle of wine on the table, and was now completing the preparations for Rupert's meal in a very leisurely fashion. �Had I nothing to do but look at pretty faces, which by heaven I heartily wish for the case, I would beg you to stay� said Rupert, rising and making her a profound bow. �I've no wish to hear what doesn't concern me� she retorted scornfully. �What a rare and blessed disposition� said he, holding the door for her and bowing again. �I know what I know� she cried to him triumphantly from the landing. �Maybe you'd give something to know it too, Count Rupert. �It's very likely for by heaven girls know wonderful things� smiled Rupert. But he shut the door and came back quickly to the table, now frowning again. �Come, tell me, how did they make a fool of you? Or why did you make a fool of me, cousin?� While Rischenheim related how he had been trapped and tricked at the castle of Zender, Rupert of Hentzer made a very good breakfast. He offered no interruption and no comments, but when Rudolf Rassendil came into the story, he looked up for an instant, with a quick jerk of his head and a sudden light in his eyes. The end of Rischenheim's narrative found him tolerant and smiling again. �Ah, well, the snare was cleverly set� he said. �I don't wonder you fell into it. �And now you, what happened to you?� asked Rischenheim eagerly. �I, by having your message, but not your message, I obeyed your directions, which were not your directions. You went to the lodge? Certainly. And you found Zapp there? Anybody else? Why, not Zapp at all? Not Zapp, but surely they laid a trap for you. Very possibly, but the jaws didn't bite. Rupert crossed his legs and lit a cigarette. But what did you find? �I, I found the king's forester and the king's boar-hound, and, well, I found the king himself, too. �The king at the lodge?� You weren't so wrong, as you thought, were you? But surely Zapp or Bernstein or someone was with him? As I tell you, his forester and his boar-hound, no other man or beast on my honor. �Then you gave him the letter� cried Rischenheim, trembling with excitement. �Alas, no, my dear cousin. I threw the box at him, but I don't think he had time to open it. We didn't get to that stage of the conversation at which I had intended to produce the letter. But why not? Why not?� Rupert rose to his feet, and coming to just opposite where Rischenheim sat, balanced himself on his heels, and looking down at his cousin, blowing the ash from his cigarette and smiling pleasantly. �Have you noticed,� he asked, �that my coat's torn?� �I see it is. Yes, the boar-hound tried to bite me, cousin, and the forester would have stabbed me, and, well, the king wanted to shoot me. �Yes, yes, for God's sake, what happened? Well, none of them did what they wanted. That's what happened, dear cousin.� Rischenheim was staring at him now with wide-opened eyes. Rupert smiled down on him compositely. �Because you see,� he added, �heaven helped me.� �So that's my dear cousin. The dog will bite no more, and the forester will stab no more. Surely the country is well rid of them.� The silence followed. Then Rischenheim, leaning forward, said in a low whisper, as though afraid to hear his own question, �And the king?� �The king?� �Well,� �The king will shoot no more.� For a moment Rischenheim, still leaning forward, gazed at his cousin. Then he sank slowly back into his chair. �My God!� he murmured. �My God!� �The king was a fool!� said Rupert. �Come, I'll tell you a little more about it.� He drew a chair up, and seated himself in it. While he talked Rischenheim seemed hardly to listen. The story gained in effect from the contrast of Rupert's airy telling, his companion's pale face and twitching hands tickled his fancy to more shameless jesting. But when he had finished, he gave a pull to his small, smartly curled moustache, and said with sudden gravity, �After all, there, it's a serious matter.� Rischenheim was appalled at the issue. His cousin's influence had been strong enough to lead him into the affair of the letter. He was aghast to think how Rupert's reckless daredevilry had led on from stage to stage, till the death of a king seemed but an incident in his schemes. He sprang suddenly to his feet, crying, �But we must fly!� �We must fly!� �No, we needn't fly.� �Perhaps we'd better go,� �But we needn't fly.� �But when it becomes known� he broke off and then cried, �Why did you tell me?� �Why did you come back here?� �Well, I told you, because it was interesting, and I came back here, because I had no money to go elsewhere. I would have sent money. I find that I get more when I ask in person. �Besides, is everything finished?� �I'll have no more to do with it.� �Ah, my dear cousin, you despond too soon. The good king has unhappily gone from us. But we still have our dear queen. We have also, by the kindness of heaven, our dear queen's letter. �I'll have no more to do with it.� �Your neck feeling�? Rupert delicately imitated the putting of a noose around a man's throat. Rischenheim rose suddenly and flung the window wide open. �I'm suffocated�, he muttered, with a sudden frown, avoiding Rupert's eyes. �Where's Rupert Rassenhill?� asked Rupert. �Have you heard of him?� �No, I don't know where he is.� �We must find that out, I think� Rischenheim turned abruptly on him. �I had no hand in this thing,� he said, �and I'll have no more to do with it. I was not there. What do I know of the king being there? I'm not guilty of it. On my soul I know nothing of it.� �That's all very true� nodded Rupert. �Rupert� cried he, �let me go, let me alone. If you want money I'll give it to you. For God's sake take it, and get out of Straussar!� �I'm ashamed to beg, my dear cousin, but in fact I want a little money until I can contrive to realise my valuable property. Is it safe, I wonder?� �Ah, yes, here it is� He drew from his inner pocket the queen's letter. �Now, if the king hadn't been a fool� he murmured regretfully as he regarded it. Then he walked across to the window and looked out. He could not himself be seen from the street, and nobody was visible at the window's opposite. Men and women passed to and fro on their daily labours or pleasures. There was no unusual stir in the city. Looking over the roofs, Rupert could see the royal standard floating in the wind over the palace and the barracks. He took out his watch. Ryschenheim imitated his action. It was ten minutes to ten. �Ryschenheim� he called, �Come here a moment. Here, look out� Ryschenheim obeyed, and Rupert let him look for a minute or two before speaking again. �Do you see anything remarkable?� he asked then. �No, nothing� asked Ryschenheim, still curt and sullen in his fright. �Well, no more do I, and that's very odd, for don't you think that Zabt or some other of Her Majesty's friends must have gone to the lodge last night? �They meant to, I swear� said Ryschenheim, with sudden attention. Then they would have found the King's. There's a telegraph wire at Hofbauer, only a few miles away, and it's ten o'clock. �My cousin, why isn't Strelso morning for our lamented King? Why aren't the flags at half-mast? I don't understand it. �No� murmured Ryschenheim, his eyes now fixed on his cousin's face. Rupert broke into a smile, and tapped his teeth with his fingers. �I wonder� said he meditatively. �If that old player Zabt has got a King up his sleeve again�. �If that were so�� he stopped, and seemed to fall into deep thought. Ryschenheim did not interrupt him, but stood looking now at him, now out of the window. Still there was no stir in the streets, and still the standards floated at the summit of the flagstaffs. The King's death was not yet known in Strelso. �Where's Bauer?� asked Rupert suddenly. �Where the plague can Bauer be?� He was my eyes. �Here we are cooped up, and I don't know what's going on. I don't know where he is. Something must have happened to him. �Of course, my wise cousin, but what?� Rupert began to pace up and down the room, smoking another cigarette at a great pace. Ryschenheim sat down by the table, resting his head on his hand. He was wearied out by the strain and excitement. His wounded arm pained him greatly, and he was full of horror and remorse at the event which had happened unknown to him the night before. �I wish I was quit of it� he moaned at last. Rupert stopped before him. �You repent of your misdeeds� he asked. �Well then, you shall be allowed to repent. Nay, you shall go and tell the King that you repent. Ryschenheim, I must know what they are doing. You must go and ask for an audience of the King. �But the King is� we shall know that better when you've asked for your audience.� See here. Rupert sat down by his cousin, and instructed him in his task. This was no other than to discover whether there were a King in Strelso, or whether the only King lay dead in the hunting lodge. If there were no attempt being made to conceal the King's death, Rupert's plan was to seek safety and flight. He did not abandon his designs. From the secure vantage of foreign soil he would hold the Queen's letter over her head, and by the threat of publishing it, insure at once immunity for himself, and almost any further terms which he chose to exact from her. If on the other hand the Count of Lutzau-Ryschenheim found the King in Strelso, if the royal standards continued to wave at the summit of their flagstaffs, and Strelso knew nothing of the dead man in the lodge, then Rupert had laid his hand on another secret, for he knew who the King in Strelso must be. Starting from this point his audacious mind darted forward to new and bolder schemes. He could offer again to Rudolf Rassendil what he had offered once before, three years ago, a partnership in crime, and the profits of crime, or if this advance were refused, then he declared that he would himself descend openly into the streets of Strelso and proclaim the death of the King from the steps of the Cathedral. Who can tell? he cried, springing up, enraptured and merry with the inspiration of his plan. Who can tell whether Zapt or I came first to the lodge? Who found the King alive? Zapt or I? Who left him dead? Zapt or I? Who has most interest in killing him? I? Who only sought to make him aware of what touched his honour? Or Zapt, who was and is hand in glove with a man that now robs him of his name, and usurps his place while his body is still warm? Ah, they haven't done with Rupert of Hentzau yet! He stopped, looking down on his companion. Rischenheim's fingers still twitched nervously and his cheeks were pale. But now his face was alight with interest and eagerness. Again the fascination of Rupert's audacity and the infection of his courage caught on his kinsman's weaker nature, and inspired him to a temporary emulation of the will that dominated him. You see, pursued Rupert, it's not likely that they'll do you any harm. I'll risk anything. Most gallant gentlemen, at the worst they'll only keep you a prisoner. Well, if you're not back in a couple of hours I shall draw my conclusions. I shall know that there's a King in Strelzau. But where shall I look for the King? My, first in the palace, and secondly at Fritz Fontalenheim's. I expect you'll find him at Fritz's, though. Shall I go there first, then? No, that would be seeming to know too much. You'll wait here? Certainly, cousin, unless I see cause to move, you know. And I shall find you here on my return? Me, or directions from me? By the way, bring money too. There's never any harm in having a full pocket. I'm under what the devil does without a British's pocket. Ryschenheim let that curious speculation alone, although he remembered the whimsical air with which Rupert delivered it. He was now on fire to be gone, his ill-balanced brain leaping from the depths of despondency to the certainty of brilliant success, and not heeding the gulf of danger that it surpassed in buoyant fancy. We shall have them in a corner, he cried. Aye, perhaps. But wild beasts in a corner bite hard. I wish my arm were well. You'll be safer with it wounded, said Rupert with a smile. By God, Rupert, I can defend myself. True, true. But it's your brain I want now, cousin. You shall see that I have something in me. If it please God, dear cousin. With every mocking encouragement, and every careless taunt, Ryschenheim's resolve to prove himself a man grew stronger. He snatched up a revolver that lay on the mantelpiece, and put it in his pocket. Don't fire if you can help it, advised Rupert. Ryschenheim's answer was to make for the door at a great speed. Rupert watched him go, and then returned to the window. The last his cousin saw was his figure standing straight and lithe against the light, while he looked out on the city. Still there was no stir in the streets. Still the royal standard floated at the top of the flagstaffs. Ryschenheim plunged down the stairs. His feet were too slow for his eagerness. At the bottom he found the girl Rosa sweeping the passage with great apparent diligence. You're going out, my lord? she asked. But yes, I have business. Praise stand on one side. This passage is so cuss and narrow. Rosa's showed no haste in moving. And Count Rupert is he going out also, she asked. You'll see he's not with me. He'll wait. Ryschenheim broke off, and asked angrily, What business is it of yours, girl? Get out of the way. She moved aside now, making him no answer. He rushed past. She looked after him with a smile of triumph. Then she fell again to her sweeping. The king had been in her be ready at eleven. It was half past ten. Soon the king would have need of her. Rupert of Hentza, taken from the memoirs of Fritz von Tallenheim by Anthony Hope. Chapter 14 The News Comes to Srelzau On leaving number nineteen, Ryschenheim walked swiftly some little way up the Koenigstrasse and then hailed a cab. He had hardly raised his hand when he heard his name called, and looking round saw Anton von Ströftzins' smart faton pulling up beside him. Anton was driving, and on the other seat was a large nose-gay of choice flowers. Where are you off to? cried Anton, leaning forward with a gay smile. Where are you to a lady's, I presume, from your bouquet there? answered Ryschenheim as likely as he could. The little bunch of flowers, simple young Anton, is a cousinly offering to Helge von Tallenheim, and I am going to present it. Can I give you a lift anywhere? Although Ryschenheim had intended to go first to the palace, Anton's offer seemed to give him a good excuse for drawing the more likely cover at first. I was going to the palace to find out where the king is. I want to see him if he'll give me a minute or two, he remarked. I'll drive you there afterwards. Jump up, and there's your cab. Here you are, Cabin! And flinging the cab and the crown, he displaced the bouquet and made room for Ryschenheim beside him. Anton's horses, of which he was not a little proud, made short work of the distance to my home. The faton rattled up to the door, and both young men got out. The moment of their arrival found the chancellor just leaving to return to his own home. Helsing knew them both, and stopped to rally Anton on the matter of his bouquet. Anton was famous for his bouquets, which he distributed widely among the ladies of Strelzau. A hoax it was for my daughter, said the chancellor, slightly, for I love flowers and my wife has ceased to provide me with them. Moreover, I've ceased to provide her with them, so but for my daughter we should have none. Anton answered his chaff, promising a bouquet for the young lady the next day, but declaring that he would not disappoint his cousin. He was interrupted by Ryschenheim, who, looking round on the group of bystanders, now grown numerous, exclaimed, What's going on here, my dear chancellor? What are all these people hanging about here for? Ah, that's a royal carriage. The queen is with the Countess, answered Helsing. The people are waiting to see her come out. She is always worth seeing, Anton pronounced, sticking his glass in his eye. And you've been to visit her? Pursued Ryschenheim? By yes, I went to pay my respects, my dear Ryschenheim. An early visit? It was more or less on business. Ah, I have business also, and very important business, but it's with the king. I won't keep you a moment, Ryschenheim, called Anton, as bouquet in hand. He knocked at the door. With the king, said Helsing, ah, yes, but the king. I am on my way to the palace to find out where he is. If I can't see him I must write at once. My business is very urgent. Indeed, my dear Count, dear me, urgent, you say. But perhaps you can help me. Is he at Zender? The chancellor was becoming very embarrassed. Anton had disappeared into the house. Ryschenheim button-told him resolutely. At Zender? Well, now, I don't—excuse me, but what is your business? Excuse me, my dear chancellor, it's a secret. I have the king's confidence. Then you'll be indifferent to not enjoying mine, smiled Ryschenheim. I perceive that your arm is hurt, observed the chancellor, seeking a diversion. Between ourselves that has something to do with my business. Well, I must go to the palace, or would her majesty condescend to help me? I think I'll risk a request. She can, but refuse. And so, saying, Ryschenheim approached the door. Oh, my friend, I wouldn't do that! cried Helsing, darting after him. The queen is very much engaged. She won't like to be troubled. Ryschenheim took no notice of him, but knocked loudly. The door was opened, and he told the butler to carry his name to the queen and beg a moment's speech with her. Helsing stood in perplexity on the step. The crowd was delighted with the coming of these great folk, and showed no signs of dispersing. Anton von Stroffzin did not reappear. Ryschenheim edged himself inside the doorway, and stood on the threshold of the hall. There he heard voices proceeding from the sitting-room on the left. He recognised the queens, my wife's, and Anton's. Then came the butler, saying, I will inform account of your majesty's wishes. The door of the room opened. The butler appeared, and immediately behind him, Anton von Stroffzin and Bernstein. Bernstein had the young fellow by the arm, and hurried him through the hall. They passed the butler, who made way for them, and came to where Ryschenheim stood. We meet again, said Ryschenheim with a bow. The chancellor rubbed his hands in nervous perturbation. The butler stepped up and received his message. The queen regretted her inability to receive the count. Ryschenheim nodded, and standing so that the door could not be shut, asked Bernstein whether he knew where the king was. Now Bernstein was most anxious to get the pair of them away, and the door shut, but he dared show no eagerness. Do you want another interview with the king already? He asked with a smile. The last was so pleasant then. Ryschenheim took no notice of the taunt, but observed sarcastically. There's a strange difficulty in finding our good king. The chancellor here doesn't know where he is, or at least he won't answer my questions. Possibly the king has his reasons for not wishing to be disturbed, suggested Bernstein. It's very possible, retorted Ryschenheim significantly. Meanwhile my dear count, I shall take it as a personal favour if you'll move out of the doorway. Do I encourage you by standing here? answered the count. Infinitely, my lord! answered Bernstein stiffly. Hello, Bernstein! What's the matter? cried Anton, seeing that their tones and glances had grown angry. The crowd also had noticed the raised voices and hostile manner of the disputants, and began to gather round in a more compact group. Suddenly a voice came from inside the hall. It was distinct and loud, yet not without a touch of huskiness. The sound of it hushed the rising quarrel, and silenced the crowd into expectant stillness. Bernstein looked aghast. Ryschenheim nervous yet triumphant. Anton abused and gratified. The king! he cried, and burst into a laugh. You've drawn him Ryschenheim. The crowd heard his boyish exclamation and raised a cheer. Helsing turned as though to rebuke them. Had not the king himself desired secrecy? Yes, but he who spoke as the king chose any risk sooner than let Ryschenheim go back and warn Rupert of his presence. Is that the count of Lutz Ryschenheim? called Rudolf from within. If so, let him enter, and then shut the door. There was something in his tone that alarmed Ryschenheim. He started back on the step. But Bernstein caught him by the arm. Since you wish to come in, come in, he said with a grim smile. Ryschenheim looked round as though he meditated flight. The next moment Bernstein was thrust aside. For one short instant a tall figure appeared in the doorway. The crowd had but a glimpse, yet they cheered again. Ryschenheim's hand was clasped in a firm grip. He passed unwillingly but helplessly through the door. Bernstein followed. The door was shut. Anton faced round on Helsing. A scornful twist on his lips. There was a deuce lot of mystery about nothing, said he. Why couldn't you say he was there? And without waiting for an answer from the outraged and bewildered chancellor, he swung down the steps and climbed into his phaton. The people round were chatting noisily, delighted to have caught a glimpse of the king, speculating what brought him and the queen to my house, and hoping that they would soon come out and get into the royal carriage that stood waiting. Had they been able to see inside the door, their emotion would have been stirred to a keener pitch. Rudolph himself caught Ryschenheim by the arm, and without a moment's delay led him towards the back of the house. They went along a passage and reached a small room that looked out on the front. Rudolph had known my house in the old days and did not forget its resources. Shut the door, Bernstein, said Rudolph. Then he turned to Ryschenheim. My lord, he said, I suppose you came to find out something. Do you know it now? Ryschenheim plucked up courage to answer him. Yes, I know now that I have to deal with an imposter, said he, defiantly. Precisely, an imposter's can't be exposed. Ryschenheim's cheek turned rather pale. Rudolph faced him, and Bernstein guarded the door. He was absolutely at their mercy, and he knew their secret. Did they know his? The news that Rupert of Hentsau had brought. Listen, said Rudolph, for a few hours today I am king in Strelso. In those few hours I have an account to settle with your cousin. Something that he has, I must have. I am going now to seek him, and while I seek him, you will stay here with Bernstein. Perhaps I shall fail, and perhaps I shall succeed. Whether I succeed or fail, by tonight I shall be far from Strelso, and the king's place will be free for him again. Ryschenheim gave a slight start, and the look of triumph spread over his face. They did not know that the king was dead. Rudolph came nearer to him, fixing his eyes steadily on his prisoner's face. I don't know, he continued, why you are in this business, my lord. Your cousin's motives I know well, but I wonder that they seem to you great enough to justify the ruin of an unhappy lady who is your queen. Be sure that I will die sooner than let that letter reach the king's hand. Ryschenheim made him no answer. Are you armed? asked Rudolph. Ryschenheim suddenly flung his revolver on the table. Bernstein came forward and took it. Keep him here, Bernstein. When I return I'll tell you what more to do. If I don't return, Fritz will be here soon, and you and he must make your own plans. He shan't give me the slip a second time, said Bernstein. We hold ourselves free, said Rudolph to Ryschenheim, to do what we please with you, my lord, but I have no wish to cause your death unless it be necessary. You will be wise to wait till your cousin's fate is decided before you attempt any further steps against us. And with a slight bow he left the prisoner in Bernstein's charge and went back to the room where the queen awaited him. Helga was with her. The queen sprang up to meet him. I mustn't lose a moment, he said. All that crowd of people know now that the king is here. The news will filter through the town in no time. We must send word to Zap to keep it from the king's ears at all costs. I must go and do my work and then disappear. The queen stood facing him. Her eyes seemed to devour his face, but she said only, Yes, it must be so. You must return to the palace as soon as I am gone. I shall send out and ask the people to disperse, and then I must be off. To seek Rupert of Hentzer? Yes. She struggled for a moment with the contending feelings that filled her heart. Then she came to him and seized hold of his hand. Don't go, she said, in low trembling tones. Don't go, Rudolph, he'll kill you. Never mind the letter, don't go. I'd rather a thousand times that the king had it than that you should— Oh, my dear, don't go. I must go, he said softly. Again she began to implore him, but he would not yield. Helga moved towards the door, but Rudolph stopped her. No, he said, you must stay with her. You must go to the palace with her. Even as he spoke, they heard the wheels of a carriage driven quickly to the door. By now I had met Anton von Stroffzin and heard from him that the king was at my house. As I dashed up, the news was confirmed by the comments and jokes of the crowd. Oh, he's in a hurry! they said. He's kept the king waiting. He'll get a wigging. As maybe supposed, I paid little heed to them. I sprang out and ran up the steps to the door. I saw my wife's face at the window. She herself ran to the door and opened it for me. Good God! I whispered, do all these people know he's here and take him for the king? Yes, she said, we couldn't help it. He showed himself at the door. It was worse than I dreamt, not two or three people, but all that crowd were victims of the mistake. All of them had heard that the king was in Straussau. I, and had seen him. Where is he? Where is he? I asked, and followed her hastily to the room. The queen and Rudolph were standing side by side. What I have told from Helga's description had just passed between them. Rudolph ran to meet me. Is all well, he asked, eagerly. I forgot the queen's presence and paid no sign of respect to her. I caught Rudolph by the arm and cried to him, Do they take you for the king? Yes, he said. Heaven's man, don't look so white. We shall manage it. I can be gone by tonight. Gone? How will that help since they believe you to be the king? You can keep it from the king, he urged. I couldn't help it. I can settle with Rupert and disappear. The three were standing round me, surprised at my great and terrible agitation. Looking back now, I wondered that I could speak to them at all. Rudolph tried again to reassure me. He little knew the cause of what he saw. It won't take long to settle affairs with Rupert, said he, and we must have the letter or it will get to the king after all. The king will never see the letter, I'd blurt it out as I sank back in a chair. They said nothing. I looked round on their faces. I had a strange feeling of helplessness and seemed able to do nothing, but throw the truth at them in blunt plainness. Let them make what they could of it. I can make nothing. The king will never see the letter, I repeated. Rupert himself has ensured that. What do you mean? You've not met Rupert, you've not got the letter? No, no, but the king can never read it. Then Rudolph seized me by the shoulder and fairly shook me. Indeed I must have seemed like a man in a dream or torpor. Why not, Anne? Why not? he asked in urgent low tones. Again I looked at them, but somehow this time my eyes were attracted and held by the queen's face. I believed that she was the first to catch a hint of the tidings I brought. Her lips were parted, and her gaze eagerly strained upon me. I rubbed my hand across my forehead. And looking up stupidly at her I said, He can never see the letter. He's dead. There was a little scream from Helga. Rudolph neither spoke nor moved. The queen continued to gaze at me in motionless wonder and horror. Rupert killed him, said I. The boar hound attacked Rupert, then Herbert and the king attacked him, and he killed them all. Yes, the king is dead. He's dead. Now none spoke. The queen's eyes never left my face. Yes, he's dead, said I, and I watched her eyes still. For a long while, or so it seemed, they were on my face. At last, as though drawn by some irresistible force, they turned away. I followed the new line they took. She looked at Rudolph Rassendale and he at her. Helga had taken out her handkerchief, and utterly upset by the horror and shock, was lying back in a low chair, sobbing half hysterically. I saw the swift look that passed from the queen to her lover, carrying in it grief, remorse, and most unwilling joy. He did not speak to her, but put out his hand and took hers. She drew it away, almost sharply, and covered her face with both hands. Rudolph turned to me. When was it? Last night. And he's at the lodge. Yes, with zapped and James. I was recovering my senses and my coolness. Nobody knows yet, I said. We were afraid you might be taken for him by somebody. But my God, Rudolph, what's to be done now? Mr. Rassendale's lips were set firm and tight. He frowned slightly, and his blue eyes wore a curious entranced expression. He seemed to me to be forgetful of everything, even of us who were with him, in some one idea that possessed him. The queen herself came nearer to him, and lightly touched his arm with her hand. He started, as though surprised, then fell again into his reverie. What's to be done, Rudolph? I asked again. I'm going to kill Rupert of Hentzer, he said. The rest we'll talk of afterwards. He walked rapidly across the room and rang the bell. Clear those people away, he ordered. Tell them that I want to be quiet. Then send a closed carriage round for me. Don't be more than ten minutes. The servant received his peroptery orders with a low bow, and left us. The queen, who had been all this time outwardly calm and composed, now fell into a great agitation, which even the consciousness of our presence could not enable her to hide. Rudolph, must you go, since this has happened? Hush, my dearest lady, he whispered. Then he went on more loudly. I won't quit Ruritania a second time, leaving Rupert of Hentzer alive. Fritz, send word to Zap that the king is in Strauss now. He'll understand. And that instructions from the king follow by midday. When I have killed Rupert, I shall visit the lodge on my way to the frontier. He turned to go, but the queen, following, detained him for a minute. You'll come and see me before you go, she pleaded. That I ought not, said he, his resume ties suddenly softening in a marvellous fashion. You will? Yes, my queen. Then I sprang up, for a sudden dread laid hold on me. Heaven's man, I cried, what if he kills you there in the Koenigstrasse? Rudolph turned to me. There was a look of surprise on his face. He won't kill me, he answered. The queen, looking still in Rudolph's face, and forgetful now, as it seemed, of the dream that had so terrified her, took no notice of what I said. But urged again, you'll come, Rudolph. Yes, once, my queen. And with the last kiss of her hand, he was gone. The queen stood for yet another moment where she was, still and almost rigid. Then suddenly she walked or stumbled to where my wife sat, and flinging herself on her knees, hid her face in Helga's lap. I heard her sobs break out fast and tumultuously. Helga looked up at me, the tears streaming down her cheeks. I turned and went out. Perhaps Helga could comfort her. I prayed that God in his pity might send her comfort, although she, for her sin's sake, dared not ask it of him. Poor soul! I hope there may be nothing worse scored to my account. Chapter 15 A Pastime for Colonel Zappt The constable of Zender and James, Mr. Rassendale's servant, sat at breakfast in the hunting lodge. They were in the small room which was ordinarily used as the bedroom of the gentleman in attendance on the king. They chose it now because it commanded a view of the approach. The door of the house was securely fastened. They were prepared to refuse admission. In case refusal was impossible, the preparations for concealing the king's body and that of his huntsman Herbert were complete. Inquirers would be told that the king had ridden out with his huntsman at daybreak, promising to return in the evening, but not stating where he was going. Zappt was under orders to await his return, and James was expecting instructions from his master at the Count of Tallenheim. Thus armed against discovery, they looked for news from me, which should determine their future action. Meanwhile there was an interval of enforced idleness. Zappt, his meal finished, off to wear his great pipe. James, after much pressure, had consented to light a small black clay and sat at his ease with his legs stretched out before him. His brows were knit, and a curious half-smile played about his mouth. What may you be thinking about, friend James? asked the Constable between two puffs. He had taken a fancy to the alert, ready little fellow. James smoked for a moment and then took his pipe from his mouth. I was thinking, sir, that since the king is dead, he paused, the king is no doubt dead, poor fellow, said Zappt, nodding, that since he is certainly dead and since my master Mr. Rassendill is alive, so far as we know, James, Zappt reminded him. Why, yes, sir, so far as we know. Since then Mr. Rassendill is alive and the king is dead, I was thinking that it was a great pity, sir, that my master can't take his place and be king. James looked across at the Constable with an air of a man who offers a respectful suggestion. A remarkable thought, James, observed the Constable with a grin. You don't agree with me, sir? asked James deprecatingly. I don't say that it isn't a pity, for Rudolph 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 Strauss house, sir, began James. Well, most likely. I'm sure of it, sir, if he's been 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 that, and it will be difficult to make it appear that the king was killed in Strauss house, yet if my master should chance to be killed in Strauss house, heaven forbid, James, on all grounds, heaven forbid, even if my master is not killed, it will be difficult for us to get the king killed at the right time and by means that will seem plausible. Zapp seemed to fall into the humour of the speculation. That's all very true, but if Mr. Rassendale is to be king, it will be both awkward and difficult to dispose of the king's body, and of this poor fellow Herbert, said he, sucking at his pipe. Again James paused for a little while before he remarked, I am, of course, only discussing the matter by way of passing the time. It would probably be wrong to carry any such plan into effect. It might be, but let us discuss it to pass the time, said Zapp, and he lent forward, looking into the servant's quiet shrewd face. Well then, sir, since it amuses you, let us say that the king came to the lodge last night and was joined there by his friend Mr. Rassendale. And did I come too? You, sir, came also in attendance on the king. Well, and you, James, you came, how came you? Why, sir, by the count of Tarlenheim's orders to wait on Mr. Rassendale, the king's friend. Now, the king, sir, this is my story, you know, sir, only my story. Your story interests me. Get on with it. The king went out very early this morning, sir. That would be on private business. So we should have understood, but Mr. Rassendale, Herbert, and ourselves remained here. Had the count of hence our been? Not to our knowledge, sir, but we were all tired and slept very soundly. Now, did we? said the constable, with a grim smile. In fact, sir, we were all overcome with fatigue. Mr. Rassendale liked the rest, and full morning found us still in our beds. There we should be till this moment, sir, had we not been suddenly aroused in a startling and fearful manner. Here should write Storybooks, James. Now, what was this fearful manner in which we were aroused? James laid down his pipe, and resting his hands on his knees, continued his story. This lodge, sir, this wooden lodge, for the lodge is all of wood, sir, without and within. This lodge is undoubtedly of wood, James, and, as you say, both inside and out. And, since it is, sir, it would be mighty careless to leave a candle burning where the oil and firewood are stored. That's criminal. But hard words don't hurt dead men, and you see, sir, poor Herbert is dead. It is true, he wouldn't feel grieved. But we, sir, you and I, awaking, aren't the others to awake, James? Indeed, sir, I should pray that they had never awaked, for you and I, waking first, would find the lodge a mass of flames. We should have to run for our lives. What, should we make no effort to rouse the others? Indeed, sir, we should do all that men could do. We should even risk death by suffocation. But we should fail, in spite of our hellerism, should we? Alas, sir, in spite of all our efforts, we should fail. The flames would envelop the lodge in one blaze. Before help could come the lodge would be in ruins, and my unhappy master and poor Herbert would be consumed to ashes. Um... They would, at least, sir, be entirely unrecognizable. You think so? Be on doubt, if the oil and the farwood and the candle were placed to the best advantage. Ah, yes. And there would be an end of Rudolf Rassendale. Sir, I should myself carry the tidings to his family. Whereas the king of Roritenia would enjoy a long and prosperous reign, God willing, sir. And the queen of Roritenia, James? Do not misunderstand me, sir. They could be secretly married. I should say, re-married. Yes, certainly, re-married, by a trustworthy priest. You mean by an untrustworthy priest? It's the same thing, sir, from a different point of view. For the first time James smiled a thoughtful smile. Zapped in his turn laid down his pipe now, and was tugging at his moustache. There was a smile on his lips, too, and his eyes looked hard into James's. The little man met his glance compositely. It's an ingenious fancy, this of yours, James. The constable remarked, What, though, if your master's killed, too, Man's quite possible. Count Rupert's a man to be reckoned with. If my master is killed, sir, he must be buried. Answered James. Instral, sir. Came in quick question from Zapped. He won't mind where, sir. True, he won't mind. And we needn't mind for him. Why, no, sir, but to carry a body secretly from here to Strelso. Yes, that is, as we agreed at the first difficult. Well, it's a pretty story, but your master wouldn't approve of it. Supposing he were not killed, I mean. It's a waste of time, sir, disapproving of what's done. He might think the story better than the truth, although it's not a good story. The two men's eyes met again in a long glance. Where'd you come from? Asked Zapped suddenly. London, sir, originally. They make good stories there. Yes, sir, and act them sometimes. The instant he had spoken, James sprang to his feet and pointed out of the window. A man on horseback was cantering towards the lodge, exchanging one quick look both hastened to the door and advancing some twenty yards, waited under the tree on the spot where Boris lay buried. By the way, said Zapped, you have forgot the dog, and he pointed to the ground. The affectionate beast will be in his master's room and die there, sir. Eh, but he was rising in first. Certainly, sir, that won't be a long matter. Zapped was still smiling in grim amusement when the messenger came up and, leaning from his horse, handed him a telegram. Special indulgence, sir, said he. Zapped tore it open and read. It was the message that I sent in obedience to Mr. Rassendill's orders. He would not trust my cipher, but indeed none was necessary. Zapped would understand the message, although it said simply, the king is in Straussau, wait orders at the lodge, he is here in progress, but not finished, will wire again. Zapped handed it to James, who took it with a respectful little bow. James read it with attention and returned it with another bow. I'll attend to what it says, sir, he remarked. Yes, said Zapped. Thanks, my man, he added to the messenger. Here's a crown for you. If any other message comes for me to bring it in good time, you shall have another. You shall have it as quick as a horse can bring it from the station, sir. The king's business won't bear delay, you know, nodded Zapped. You shall have to wait, sir, and with a parting salute the fellow turned his horse and trotted away. Here, see, remarked Zapped, that your story is quite imaginary, for that fellow can see for himself that the lodge was not burnt down last night. That's true, sir, but excuse me, sir. Bring her on, James. I've told you that I'm interested. He can't see that it won't burn down to night. A fouser is a thing that may happen any night. Then old Zapped suddenly burst into a roar, half speech, half laughter. By God, what a thing! He roared, and James smiled complacently. There's a fate about it, said the Constable. There's a strange fate about it. The man was born to it. We'd have done it before if Michael had throttled the king in that cellar as I thought he would. Yes, by heavens, we'd have done it. Why, we wanted it. God, forgive us in our hearts. Both Fritz and I wanted it. But Rudolph would have the king out. He would have him out, though he'd lost a throne, and what he wanted more by it. But he would have him out, so he thwarted the fate. But it's not to be thwarted. Young Rupert may think this new affair is his doing. No, it's the fate using him. The fate brought Rudolph here again. The fate will have him king. Well, you stare at me. Do you think I'm mad, Mr. Valle? I think, sir, that you talk very good sense, if I may say so. Answered James. Sense? Echoed Zap with the chuckle. I don't know about that. But the fates there depend on it. The two were back in their little room now, past the door that hid the bodies of the king and his huntsmen. James stood by the table. Old Zap roamed up and down, tugging his moustache, and now and again sawing the air with his sturdy, hairy hand. I dare not do it, he muttered. I dare not do it. Another thing a man can't set his hand to of his own will. But the fate will do it. The fate will do it. The fate will force it on us. Then we'd best be ready, sir, suggested James quietly. Zap turned on him quickly, almost fiercely. They used to call me a cool hand, said he, by Joe, what are you? There's no harm in being ready, sir, said James, the servant. Zap came to him and caught hold of his shoulders. Ready? he asked in a gruff whisper. The oil, the firewood, the light, said James. Where, man, where? Do you mean by the bodies? Not where the bodies are now. Each must be in the proper place. We must move them, then. Why, yes, and the dog, too. Zap almost glared at him. Then he burst into a laugh. So, beard, he said. You take command. Yes, we'll be ready. The fate drives. Then and there they set about what they had to do. It seemed indeed as though some strange influence were dominating Zap. He went about the work like a man who is hardly awake. They placed the bodies each where the living man would be by night. The king in the guest-room, the huntsman in the sort of cupboard fellow had want to lie. They dug up the buried dog, Zap chuckling convulsively. James, grave as the mute whose grim doings he seemed to travesty. They carried the shot-pierced, earth-grimed thing in, and laid it in the king's room. Then they made their piles of wood, pouring the store of oil over them and setting bottles of spirit near, that the flames, having cracked the bottles, might gain fresh fuel. To Zap it seemed now as if they played some foolish game that was to end with the playing. Now as if they obeyed some mysterious power which kept its great purpose hidden from its instruments. Mr. Rassendill's servant moved and arranged and ordered all as deftly as he folded his master's clothes or stropped his master's razor. Old Zap stopped him once as he went by. I don't think me a mad fool because I talk of the fate, he said, almost anxiously. Not I, sir, answered James. I know nothing of that, but I like to be ready. It would be a thing, muttered Zap. The mockery, real or assumed in which they had begun their work, had vanished now. If they were not serious, they played at seriousness. If they entertained to no intention, such as their acts seemed to indicate, they could no longer deny that they had cherished a hope. They shrank, or at least Zap shrank, from setting such a ball rolling. But they longed for the fate that would give it a kick. And they made smooth the incline down which, it, when thus impelled, was to run. When they had finished their task and sat down again, opposite to one another in the little front room, the whole scheme was ready, the preparations were made, all was in train. They waited only for that impulse from chance or fate, which was to turn the servant's story into reality and action. And when the thing was done, Zap's coolness, so rarely upset, yet so completely beaten by the force of that wild idea, came back to him. He lit his pipe again, and lay back in his chair, puffing freely, with a meditative look on his face. It's two o'clock, sir, said James. Something should have happened before now in Strelso. Ah, but what? asked the Constable. Suddenly, breaking on their ears, came a loud knock at the door. Absorbed in their own thoughts, they had not noticed two men riding up to the lodge. The visitors wore the green and gold of the king's huntsman. The one who had knocked was Simon, the chief huntsman, and brother of Herbert, who lay dead in the little room inside. Rather dangerous, muttered the Constable of Zender, as he hurried to the door. James was following him. Simon was astonished when Zap opened the door. Big borrowed and Constable, but all he wants, see Herbert. Can I go in? And he jumped down from his horse, throwing reins to his companion. What's the good of you going in? asked Zap. Herbert's not here. Not you? Then where is he? Right, he went with the king this morning. Oh, he went with the king, sir. Then he'll be in Strelso, I suppose. If you know that, Simon, you're wiser than I am. But the king is in Strelso, sir. How deuce he is. He said nothing of going to Strelso. He rode early and rode off with Herbert, merely saying they would be back tonight. He went to Strelso, sir. I'm just from Zender, and his majesty is known to have been in town with the queen. They were both at Count Fritz's. I'm much interested to hear it, but didn't the telegram say where Herbert was? Simon laughed. Herbert's not a king, you see, he said. Well, I'll come again tomorrow morning, for I must see him soon. He'll be back by then, sir. Yes, Simon, your brother will be here tomorrow morning. Or what's left of him after such a two days of work? suggested Simon, jocularly. Yes, precisely, said Zapp, biting his moustache and darting one swift glance at James. Or what's left of him, as you say? And I'll bring a cart and carry the bore down to the castle at the same time, sir. At least, I suppose you haven't eaten at all? Zapp laughed. Simon was gratified at the tribute, and laughed even more heartily himself. I haven't even cooked it yet, said Zapp. Well, I won't answer for it that we shan't have by tomorrow. All right, sir, I'll be here. By the way, there's another bit of news come on the wires. They say Count Rupert of Hentza has been seen in the city. Rupert of Hentza? Ah, poor nonsense, my good Simon. He didn't share his face there for his life. Ah, but he may be no nonsense. Perhaps that's what took the king to Strelso. It's enough to take him, if it's true, admitted Zapp. Well, good day, sir. Good day, Simon. The two huntsmen rode off. James watched them for a little while. The king, he said then, is known to be in Strelso. And now Count Rupert is known to be in Strelso. How is Count Rupert to have killed the king here in the Forest of Zender, sir? Zapp looked at him almost apprehensively. How is the king's body to come to the Forest of Zender? asked James. Or how is the king's body to go to the city of Strelso? Stop, you damned riddles! Lord Zapp, man, are you bent on driving me into it? The servant came near to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. You went into as great a thing once before, sir, said he. It was to save the king. And this is to save the queen and yourself. For if we don't do it, the truth about my master must be known. Zapp made him no answer. They sat down again in silence. There they sat, sometimes smoking, never speaking, while the tedious afternoon wore away, and the shadows from the trees of the forest lingered. They did not think of eating or drinking. They did not move, save when James rose, and lit a little fire of brushwood in the grate. It grew dusk, and again James moved to light the lamp. It was hard on six o'clock, and still no news came from Strelso. Then there was the sound of horses' hooves. The two rushed to the door, beyond it, far along the grassy road that gave approach to the hunting lodge. They forgot to guard the secret, and the door gaped open behind them. Zapp ran as he had not run for many a day, and outstripped his companion. There was a message from Strelso. The constable, without a word of greeting, snatched the envelope from the hand of the messenger, and tore it open. He read it hastily, muttering under his breath, God, God! Then he turned suddenly round, and began to walk quickly back to James, who, seeing himself beaten in the race, had dropped to a walk. But the messenger had his cares, as well as the constable. If the constable's thoughts were on a crown, so were his. He called out in indignant protest, I've never drawn rain since half-mouser, am I not to have my crown? Zapp stopped, turned, and retraced his steps. He took a crown from his pocket, as he looked up in giving it. There was a queer smile on his broad, weather-beaten face. Aye, he said, every man that deserves a crown shall have one, if I can give it him. Then he turned again to James, who had now come up, and laid his hand on his shoulder. Come along, my king-maker, said he. James looked in his face for a moment. The constable's eyes met his, and the constable nodded. So they turned to the lodge where the dead king and his huntsman lay. Verily the fate drove. End of Chapter 15 Chapter 16 of Rupert of Hentzau This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please go to LibriVox.org. Recording by Andy Minter Rupert of Hentzau Taken from the Memoirs of Fritz von Tallenheim by Anthony Hope Chapter 16 A Crowd in the Königschrath The project that had taken shape in the thoughts of Mr. Rassendoll's servant had inflamed Zapp's daring mind as the dropping of a spark kindles dry shavings, had suggested itself vaguely to more than one of us in Straussau. We did not indeed cool the face and planet as the little servant had, nor seize on it at once with an eagerness to be convinced of its necessity, like the constable of Zander. But it was there in my mind, sometimes figuring as a dread, sometimes as a hope, now seeming the one thing to be avoided, again the only resource against a more disastrous issue. I knew that it was in Bernstein's thoughts no less than in my own. For neither of us had been able to form any reasonable scheme by which the living king, whom half Straussau now knew to be in the city, could be spirited away, and the dead king set in his place. The change could take place, as it seemed, only in one way, and at one cost. The truth, or the better part of it, must be told, and every tongue set wagging with gossip and guesses concerning Rudolf Rassendil and his relations with the queen. Who that knows what men and women are would not have shrunk from that alternative? To adopt it was to expose the queen to all, or nearly all, the peril she had run by the loss of the letter. We indeed assumed, influenced by Rudolf's unhesitating self-confidence, that the letter would be one back, and the mouth of Rupert of Hentz are shut, but enough would remain to furnish material for eager talk and for conjectures unrestrained by respect or charity. Therefore, alive as we were to its difficulties and its unending risks, we yet conceived of the thing as possible, had it in our hearts and hinted it to one another, my wife to me, I to Bernstein, and he to me, in quick glances and half-uttered sentences that declared its presence while shunning the open confession of it. For the queen herself I cannot speak. Her thoughts, as I judged them, were bounded by the longing to see Mr. Rassendil again, and dwelt on the visit that he promised as the horizon of hope. To Rudolf we had dared to disclose nothing of the part our imaginations had set him to play, if he were to accept it, the acceptance would be of his own act, because the fate that old Zapt talked of drove him, and on no persuasion of ours. As he had said, he left the rest, and had centred all his efforts on the immediate task which fell to his hand to perform, the task that was to be accomplished at the dingy old house in the Königstraße. We were indeed awake to the fact that even Rupert's death would not make the secret safe. Rischenheim, although for the moment a prisoner and helpless, was alive and could not be mewed up forever, Bauer was we knew not where, free to act and free to talk, yet in our hearts we feared none but Rupert, and the doubt was not whether we could do the thing, so much as whether we should, for in moments of excitement and intense feeling a man makes light of obstacles which look large enough as he turns reflective eyes on them in the quiet of after-days. A message in the king's name had persuaded the best part of the idle crowd to disperse reluctantly. Rudolf himself had entered one of my carriages and driven off. He started not towards the Königstraße, but in the opposite direction. I supposed that he meant to approach his destination by a circuitous way, hoping to gain it without attracting notice. The queen's carriage was still before my door, for it had been arranged that she was to proceed to the palace and there await tidings. My wife and I were to accompany her, and I went to her now, where she sat alone, and asked if it were her pleasure to start at once. I found her thoughtful but calm. She listened to me, and then, rising, she said, yes, I will go. But then she asked suddenly, where is the Count of Lutzauerischenheim? I told her how Bernstein kept guard over the Count in the room at the back of the house. She seemed to consider for a moment, then she said, I will see him. Go and bring him to me. You must be here while I talk to him, but nobody else. I did not know what she intended, but I saw no reason to oppose her wishes, and I was glad to find for her any means of employing this time of suspense. I obeyed her commands, and brought Rischenheim to her. He followed me slowly and reluctantly. His unstable mind had again jumped from rashness to despondency. He was pale and uneasy, and when he found himself in her presence, the bravado of his bearing, maintained before Bernstein, gave place to a shame-faced sulleness. He could not meet the grave eyes that she fixed on him. I withdrew to the farther end of the room, but it was small, and I heard all that passed. I had my revolver ready to cover Rischenheim in case he should be moved to make a dash for liberty, but he was past that. Rupert's presence was a tonic that nerved him to effort and to confidence, but the force of the last dose was gone, and the man was sunk again to his natural irresolution. My lord! she began gently, motioning him to sit. I have desired to speak with you, because I do not wish a gentleman of your rank to think too much evil of his queen. Heaven has willed that my secret should be to you no secret, and therefore I may speak plainly. You may say my own shame should silence me. I speak to lessen my shame in your eyes, if I can. Rischenheim looked up with a dull gaze, not understanding her mood. He had expected reproaches, and met low voice topology. And yet, she went on, it is because of me that the king lies dead now, and a faithful, humble fellow also, caught in the net of my unhappy fortunes has given his life for me, though he didn't know it. Even while we speak it may be that a gentleman not too old yet to learn nobility may be killed in my quarrel, while another, whom I alone of all that know him may not praise, carries his life lightly in his hand for me. And to you, my lord, I have done the wrong of dressing a harsh deed in some cloak of excuse, making you seem to serve the king in working my punishment. Rischenheim's eyes fell to the ground, and he twisted his hands nervously in and out, the one about the other. I took my hand from my revolver. He would not move now. I don't know, she went on, now almost dreamily, as though she spoke more to herself than to him, or had even forgotten his presence. What end in heaven's counsel my great unhappiness has served? Perhaps I, who have place above most women, must also be tried above most. And in that trial I have failed. Yet when I weigh my misery and my temptation, to my human eyes it seems that I have not failed greatly. My heart is not yet humbled. God's work not yet done. But the guilt of blood is on my soul. Even the face of my dear love I can see now only through its scarlet mist, so that if what seemed my perfect joy were now granted me, it would come spoiled and stained and blotched. She paused, fixing her eyes on him again, but he neither spoke nor moved. You knew my sin, she said, the sin so great in my heart, and you knew how little my act yielded to it. Did you think, my lord, that the sin had no punishment, that you took it in hand to add shame to my suffering? Was heaven so kind that men must temper its indulgence by their severity? Yet I know that because I was wrong, you, being wrong, might seem to yourself not wrong, and in aiding your kinsmen, might plead that you served the king's honour. Thus, my lord, I was the cause in you of a deed that your heart could not welcome, nor your honour praise. I thank God that you have come to no more hurt by it. Rischenheim began to mutter in a low, thick voice. His eyes still cast down. Rupert persuaded me. He said the king would be very grateful and would give me. His voice died away, and he sat silent again, twisting his hands. I know, I know, she said, but you wouldn't have listened to such persuasions if my fault hadn't blinded your eyes. She turned suddenly to me, who had been standing all the while aloof, and stretched out her hands towards me, her eyes filled with tears. Yet, said she, your wife knows, and still loves me for its? She should be no wife of mine if she didn't, I cried, for I and all of mine ask no better than to dive your majesty. She knows, and yet she loves me, repeated the queen. I loved to see that she seemed to find comfort in Helga's love. It is women to whom women turn, and women whom women fear. But Helga writes no letters, said the queen. But I know, said I, and I smiled a grim smile. Well, Rudolph Rassendale never wooed my wife. She rose, saying, come, let us go to the palace. As she rose, Ryschenheim made a quick, impulsive step towards her. Well, my lord, said she, turning towards him, will you also go with me? Lieutenant von Bernenstein will take care. I began. But I stopped. The slightest gesture of her hand silenced me. Will you go with me? She asked Ryschenheim again. Madam, he stammered. Madam! She waited. I waited also, although I had no great patience with him. Suddenly he fell on his knee. But he did not venture to take her hand. Of her own accord she came and stretched it out to him, saying sadly, ah, that by forgiving I could win forgiveness. Ryschenheim caught at her hand and kissed it. It was not I. I heard him mutter, Rupert set me on, and I couldn't stand out against him. Will you go with me to the palace? She asked, drawing her hand away, but smiling. The Count of Lutzau-Ryschenheim, I made bold to observe, knows some things that most people do not know, madam. She turned on me with dignity, almost with displeasure. The Count of Lutzau-Ryschenheim may be trusted to be silent. She said, we ask him to do nothing against his cousin. We ask only for his silence. I, said I, braving her anger, but what security shall we have? His word of honour, my lord. I knew that her rebuke to my presumption lay in her calling me my lord, for save on formal occasions. She always used to call me Fritz. His word of honour, I grumbled, in truth, madam. He's right, said Ryschenheim. He's right. No, he's wrong, said the Queen, smiling, but Count will keep his word given to me. Ryschenheim looked at her and seemed about to address her, but then he turned to me and said in a low tone, by heaven I will, Tarlinheim, I'll serve her in everything. My lord, said she most graciously and yet very sadly, you lighten the burden on me no less by your help than because I no longer feel your honour stain through me. Come, we will go to the palace. And she went to him, saying, we will go together. There was nothing for it but to trust him. I knew that I could not turn her. Then I'll see if the carriage is ready, said I. Yes, do Fritz, said the Queen, but as I passed she stopped me for a moment, saying in a whisper, show that you trust him. I went and held out my hand to him. He took it and pressed it. On my honour, he said. Then I went out and found Bernstein sitting on a bench in the hall. The lieutenant was a diligent and watchful young man. He appeared to be examining his Robolva with sedulous care. You can put that away, said I rather peevishly. I had not fancied shaking hands with Rischenheim. He's not a prisoner any longer. He's one of us now. The deuce he is, cried Bernstein, springing to his feet. I told him briefly what had happened and how the Queen had won Rupert's instrument to be her servant. I suppose he'll stick to it, I ended, and I thought he would, though I was not eager for his help. A light gleamed in Bernstein's eyes, and I felt a tremble in the hand that he laid on my shoulder. There's only Bauer now, he whispered, if Rischenheim's with us, only Bauer. I knew very well what he meant. With Rischenheim's silent Bauer was the only man, say, Rupert himself, who knew the truth. The only man who threatened that great scheme which more and more filled our thoughts and grew upon us with an increasing force of attraction, as every obstacle to it seemed to be cleared out of our way. But I would not look at Bernstein, fearing to acknowledge, even with my eyes, how my mind had jumped with his. He was bolder, or less scrupulous, which you will. Yes, if we can shut Bauer's mouth, he went on. The Queen's waiting for the carriage, I interrupted snappishly. Ah, yes, of course, the carriage. And he twisted me round till I was forced to look him in the face. Then he smiled, and even laughed a little. Only Bauer now, said he. And Rupert—I remarked, sirely—oh, Rupert's dead bones by now, he chuckled, and with that he went out of the hall-door, and announced the Queen's approach to her servants. It must be said for young Bernstein that he was a cheerful fellow-conspirator. His equanimity almost matched Rudolph's own. I could not rival it myself. I drove to the palace with the Queen and my wife, the other two following in a second carriage. I do not know what they said to one another on the way. But Bernstein was civil enough to his companion when I rejoined them. With us my wife was the principal-speaker. She filled up from what Rudolph had told her the gaps in our knowledge of how he had spent his night in Straussau, and by the time we arrived we were fully informed in every detail. The Queen said little. The impulse which had dictated her appeal to Rischenheim, and carried her through it, seemed to have died away. She had become again subject to fears and apprehension. I saw her uneasiness when she suddenly put out her hand and touched mine, whispering. He must be at the house by now. Our way did not lie by the house, and we came to the palace without any news of our absent chief. So I called him, but as such we all from the Queen herself then regarded him. She did not speak of him again, but her eyes seemed to follow me about as though she was silently asking some service of me, what it was I could not understand. Bernstein had disappeared, and the repentant count with him. When they were together I was in no uneasiness. Bernstein would see that his companion contrived no treachery. But I was puzzled by the Queen's tacit appeal, and I was myself on fire for news from the Koenigstrasse. It was now two hours since Rudolph Rassendull had left us, and no word had come of him or from him. At last I could bear it no longer. The Queen was sitting with her hand in my wife's. I had been seated on the other side of the room, for I thought they might wish to talk to one another, yet I had not seen them exchange a word. I rose abruptly and crossed the room to where they were. Have you need of my presence, madam, or have I your permission to be away for a time? I asked. Where do you wish to go, Fritz? The Queen asked with a little start, as though I had come suddenly across her thoughts. To the Koenigstrasse, said I. To my surprise she rose and caught my hand. God bless you, Fritz! she cried. I don't think I could have endured it any longer, but I wouldn't ask you to go. But go, my dear friend, and bring me news of him. Oh, Fritz, I seem to dream that dream again. My wife looked up at me with a brave smile and a trembling lip. Shall you go into the house, Fritz? she asked. Not unless I see need, sweetheart, said I. She came and kissed me. Go, if you are wanted, she said. And she tried to smile at the Queen, as though she risked me willingly. I could have been such a wife, Fritz, whispered the Queen. Yes, I could. I had nothing to say. At the moment I might not have been able to say it if I had. There is something in the helpless courage of women that makes me feel soft. We can work and fight. They sit and wait, yet they do not flinch. Though I know that if I had to sit and think about the thing I should turn kerr. Well I went, leaving them there together. I put on plain clothes, instead of my uniform, and dropped my revolver into the pocket of my coat. Thus prepared, I slept out, and made my way on foot to the Kernigstrasse. It was now long past midday, but many folks were at their dinner, and the streets were not full. Two or three people recognized me, but I passed by almost unnoticed. There was no sign of stir or excitement, and the flags still floated high in the wind. Zapt had kept his secret. The men of Strelzar thought still that their King lived, and was among them. I feared that Rudolf's coming would have been seen, and expected to find a crowd of people near the house. But when I reached it, there were no more than ten or a dozen idle fellows lounging about. I began to stroll up and down, with as careless an air as I could assume. Soon, however, there was a change. The workmen and businessfolk, their meal finished, began to come out of their houses and from the restaurants. The loafers before number nineteen spoke to many of them. Some said, indeed, shook their heads, smiled and passed on. They had no time to waste in staring at the King. But many waited. Using their cigars, or cigarettes, or pipes, they stood, gossiping with one another, looking at their watches now and again, lest they should overstay their leisure. Thus the assembly grew to the number of a couple of a hundred. I ceased my walk, for the pavement was too crowded, and hung on the outskirts of the throng. As I loitered there, a cigar in my mouth, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning round, I saw the lieutenant. He was in uniform. By his side was Rischenheim. Your hair, too, are you? Said I. Well, nothing seems to be happening, does it? For number nineteen showed no signs of life. The shutters were up, the door closed, the little shop was not open for business that day. Bernstein shook his head with a smile. His companion took no heed of my remark. He was evidently in a state of great agitation, and his eyes never left the door of the house. I was about to address him, when my attention was abruptly and completely diverted by a glimpse of a head caught across the shoulders of the bystanders. The fellow whom I saw wore a brown, wide-awake hat. The hat was pulled down low over his forehead, but nevertheless beneath its rim there appeared a white bandage running round his head. I could not see the face, but the bullet-shaped skull was very familiar to me. I was sure from the first moment that the bandage man was Bauer. Saying nothing to Bernstein, I began to steal round outside the crowd. As I went, I heard somebody saying that it was all nonsense. The king was not there. What should the king do in such a house? The answer was a reference to one of the first loungers. He replied that he did not know what the devil the king did there, but that the king or his double had certainly gone in, and had us certainly not yet come out again. I wished I could have made myself known to them, and persuaded them to go away, but my presence would have outweighed my declarations and been taken as a sure sign that the king was in the house. So I kept on the outskirts, and worked my way unobtrusively towards the bandaged head. Evidently Bauer's hurt had not been so serious as to prevent him leaving the infirmary to which the police had carried him. He was now come to await, even as I was awaiting, the issue of Rudolf's visit to the house in the Königstrasse. He had not seen me, for he was looking at number nineteen as intently as Rischenheim. Apparently neither had caught sight of the other, or Rischenheim would have shown some embarrassment. Bauer, some excitement. I went my way quickly towards my former servant. My mind was full of the idea of getting hold of him. I could not forget Bernstein's remark, only Bauer now. If I could secure Bauer, we were safe. Safe in what? I did not answer to myself, but the old idea was working in me. Safe in our secret, safe in our plan, in the plan on which we all, we here in the city, and those two at the hunting lodge, had set our minds. Bauer's death, Bauer's capture, Bauer's silence, however procured, would clear the greatest hindrance from its way. Bauer stared intently at the house. I crept cautiously up behind him. His hand was in his trouser's pocket. Where the curve of the elbow came, there was a space between arm and body. I slipped in my left arm, and hooked it firmly inside his. He turned round and saw me. "'Thus we meet again, Bauer,' said I. He was for a moment flabbergasted, and stared stupidly at me. "'Are you also hoping to see the king?' I asked. He began to recover himself. A slow, cunning smile spread over his face. "'The king?' he asked. "'Well, he's in strelso, isn't he? Who gave you the wound to your head?' Bauer moved his arm, as though he meant to withdraw it from my grasp. He found himself tightly held. "'Where's that bag of mine?' I asked. I do not know what he would have answered, for at this instant there came a sound from behind the closed door of the house. It was as if someone ran rapidly and eagerly towards the door. Then came an oath, in a shrill voice, a woman's voice, but harsh and rough. It was answered by an angry cry in a girl's intonation. Full of eagerness, I drew my arm from Bauer's and sprang forward. I heard a chuckle from him, and turned round to see his bandaged head retreating rapidly down the street. I had no time to look to him. For now I saw two men, shoulder to shoulder, making their way through the crowd, regardless of any one in their way, and paying no attention to abuse or remonstrances. They were the Lieutenant and Rischenheim. Without a moment's hesitation I set myself to push and battle away through, thinking to join them in front. On they went, and on I went. All gave place before us in surly reluctance or frightened willingness. We three were together in the first rank of the crowd. When the door of the house was flung open and the girl ran out, the hair was disordered, her face pale and her eyes full of alarm. There she stood on the doorstep, facing the crowd, which in an instant grew as if by magic to three times its former size, and little knowing what she did, she cried in eager accents of sheer terror, Help! Help! The King! The King! End of Chapter 16.