 CHAPTER IX of Rupert of Hentzau CHAPTER IX THE KING IN THE HUNTING-LOCH The moment, with its shock and tumult of feeling, brings one judgement, later reflection another. Among the sins of Rupert of Hentzau I do not assign the first and greatest place to his killing of the king. It was indeed the act of a reckless man who stood at nothing and held nothing sacred. But when I consider Herbert's story, and trace how the deed came to be done and the impulsion of circumstance that led to it, it seems to have been in some sort thrust upon him by the same perverse fate that dogged our steps. He had meant the king no harm—indeed it may be argued that from whatever motive—he had sought to serve him, and save under the sudden stress of self-defense—he had done him none. The king's unlooked-for ignorance of his errand, Herbert's honest hasty zeal, the temper of Boris the Hound, had forced on him an act unmeditated and utterly against his interest. His whole guilt lay in preferring the king's death to his own—a crime perhaps in most men but hardly deserving of place in Rupert's catalogue. All this I can admit now, but on that night, with the dead body lying there before us, with the story piteously told by Herbert's faltering voice threshing our ears, it was hard to allow any such extenuation. Our hearts cried out for vengeance, although we ourselves served the king no more. Nay, may well be that we hoped to stifle some reproach of our own consciences by our louder clamour against another's sin, or long to offer some belated empty atonement to our dead master by executing swift justice on the man who had killed him. I cannot tell fully what the others felt, but in me, at least, the dominant impulse was to waste not a moment in proclaiming the crime and raising the whole country in pursuit of Rupert, so that every man in Ruritania should quit his work, his pleasure or his bed, and make it his concern to take the count of hence our life or dead. I remember that I walked over to where Zat was sitting, and caught him by the arm, saying, We must raise the alarm. If you co-desender, I'll start for Strel-Saw." "'The alarm?' said he, looking up at me and tugging his moustache. Yes, when the news is known every man in the kingdom will be on the lookout for him, and he can't escape." So that he be taken, asked the Constable. "'Yes, to a certainty,' I cried, hot in excitement and emotion.' Zapt granced across at Mr. Rassendill's servant. James had, with my help, raised the king's body onto the bed, and had aided the wounded forester to reach a couch. He stood now near the Constable, in his usual unobtrusive readiness. He did not speak, but I saw a look of understanding in his eyes, as he nodded his head to Colonel Zapt. They were well matched, that pair, hard to move, hard to shake, not to be turned from the purpose in their minds, and the matter that lay in their hands. "'Yes, he'd probably be taken or killed,' said Zapt. "'Then let's do it,' I cried. "'With the queen's letter on him,' said Colonel Zapt, I had forgotten. We have the box. He has the letter still,' said Zapt. I could have laughed even at that moment. He had left the box, whether from haste or heedlessness or malice, we could not tell, but the letter was on him. Taken alive he would use that powerful weapon to save his life or satisfy his anger. If it were found on his body, its evidence would speak loud and clear to all the world. Again he was protected by his crime. While he had the letter, he must be kept in violet from all attack except at our own hands. We desired his death, but we must be his bodyguard, and die in his defence rather than let any but ourselves come at him. No open means must be used, and no allies sought. All this rushed to my mind at Zapt's words, and I saw what the Constable and James had never forgotten. But what to do I could not see, for the king of Ruritania lay dead. An hour or more had passed since our discovery, and it was now close on midnight. Had all gone well, we ought by this time to have been far on our road back to the castle. By this time Rupert must be miles away from where he had killed the king. Already Mr. Rassendale will be seeking his enemy in Strelsoi. But what are we to do about—about that, then, I asked, pointing with my finger through the doorway towards the bed. Zapt gave a last tug at his moustache, then crossed his hands on the hilt of the sword between his knees, and lent forward in his chair. Nothing, he said, looking at my face. Until we have the letter, nothing. But it's impossible, I cried. Why, no, Fritz, he answered thoughtfully, it's not possible yet, it may become so, but if we can catch Rupert in the next day, or even in the next two days, it's not impossible. Only let me have the letter, and I'll account for the concealment. But, is the fact that crimes are known never concealed for fear of putting the criminal on his guard? You will be able to make a story, sir. Let's put in, with a grave, but reassuring air. Yes, James, I shall be able to make a story, or your master will make one for me, but, by God's story or no story, the letter mustn't be found. Let them say we killed him ourselves, if they like, but— I seized his hand and gripped it. You don't doubt I'm with you, I asked. Not for a moment, Fritz, he answered. Then how can we do it? He drew nearer together, zapped, and I sat, while James lent over zapped's chair. The oil in the lamp was almost exhausted, and the light burnt very dim. Now and again poor Herbert, for whom our skill could do nothing, gave a slight moan. I'm ashamed to remember how little we thought of him, but great schemes make the actors in them careless of humanity. The life of a man goes for nothing against a point in the game. But for his groans, when they grew fainter and less frequent, our voices alone broke the silence of the little lodge. The Queen must know, said Zapped, let her stay at Zender, and give out that the King is at the lodge for a day or two longer. Then you, Fritz, for you must ride to the castle at once, and Bernenstein must get to Stryl Siles quick as you can, and find Rudolf Rassendil. You three ought to be able to track young Rupert down and get the letter from him. If he's not in the city, you must catch Rischenheim, and force him to say where he is. We know Rischenheim can be persuaded. If Rupert's there, I need give no advice either to you or to Rudolf. And you? James and I stay here. If any one comes whom we can keep out, the King is ill. If rumours get about and great folk come, why, they must enter. But the body! This morning, when you're gone, we shall make a temporary grave. I dare say, too, that he jerked his thumb towards poor Herbert. Or even, he added, with his grim smile, three, for our friend Boris, too, must be out of sight. You'll bury the King? Not so deep but that we can take him out again, poor fellow. Well, Fritz, have you got a better plan? I had no plan, and I was not in love with Zapp's plan, yet it offered us four and twenty hours. For that time at least it seemed as if the secret could be kept. Beyond that we could hardly hope for success. After that we must produce the King, dead or alive. The King must be seen. Yet it might be that before the respite ran out Rupert would be ours. In fine what else could be chosen? For now a greater peril threatened than that against which we had first sought to guard. Then the worst we feared was that the letter should come to the King's hands. That could never be, but it would be a worse thing if it were found on Rupert, and all the Kingdom, and all Europe, know that it was written in the hand of her who was now in her own right, Queen of Ruritania. To save her from that, no chance was too desperate, no scheme too perilous. Yes, if, as Zapp said, we ourselves were held to answer for the King's death, still we must go on. I, through whose negligence the whole train of disaster had been laid, was the last man to hesitate. In all honesty I held my life due and forfeit, should it be demanded of me, my life, and before the world my honour. So the plan was made. A grave was to be dug ready for the King. If neither rose, his body should be laid in it, and the place chosen was under the floor of the wine-seller. When death came to poor Herbert, he could lie in the yard behind the house. For Boris they meditated a resting place under the tree where our horses were tethered. There was nothing to keep me, and I rose. But as I rose I heard the forester's voice call plentifully for me. The unlucky fellow knew me well, and now cried to me to sit by him. I think Zapp wanted me to leave him, but I could not refuse his last request, even though it consumed some precious minutes. He was very near his end, and sitting by him I did my best to soothe his passing. His fortitude was good to see, and I believe that we all at last found new courage for our enterprise, from seeing how this humble man met death. At last even the constables ceased to show impatience, and let me stay till I could close the sufferer's eyes. But thus time went, and it was nearly five in the morning before I had them fare well and mounted my horse. They took theirs and led them away to the stables behind the lodge. I waved my hand and galloped off on my return to the castle. Day was dawning, and the air was fresh and pure. The new light brought new hope. Fears seemed to vanish before it. My nerves were strung to effort and to confidence. My horse moved freely under me, and carried me easily along the grassy avenues. It was hard, then, to be utterly despondent, hard to doubt, skill of brain, strength of hand, or fortune's favour. The castle came in sight, and I hailed it with a glad cry that echoed among the trees. But a moment later I gave an exclamation of surprise, and raised myself a little from the saddle, while I gazed earnestly at the summit of the keep. The flagstaff was naked. The royal standard that had flapped in the wind last night was gone. But by immemorial custom the flag flew on the keep when the king or the queen was at the castle. It would fly for rude off the fifth no more. But why did it not proclaim an honour the presence of queen flavour? I sat down in my saddle, and spurred my horse to the top of his speed. We had been buffeted by fate sorely, but now I feared yet another blow. In a quarter of an hour more I was at the door. A servant ran out, and I dismounted, leisurely and easily. Pulling off my gloves, I dusted my boots with them. Turned to the stableman, and had him look to the horse, and then said to the footman, As soon as the queen is dressed, find out if she can see me. I have a message from his majesty. The fellow looked a little puzzled. But at this moment, Herman, the king's major domo, came to the door. Isn't the constable with you, my lord? He asked. No, the constable remains at the lodge with the king, said I carelessly, though I was very far from careless. I have a message for her majesty, Herman. Find out from some of the women when she will receive me. The queen's not here, said he. Indeed we've had a lively time, my lord. At five o'clock she came out, ready dressed from her room, sent for Lieutenant von Bernenstein, and announced that she was about to set up from the castle. As you know, the mail-train passes here at six. Herman took out his watch. Yes, the queen must just have left the station. Wherefore, I asked, with a shrug for the woman's whim, why for stroke, sir? She gave no reasons for going, and took with her only one lady, Lieutenant von Bernenstein, being in attendance. It was a bustle, if you like, with everybody to be roused and got out of bed, and the carriage to be made ready, and messages to go to the station, and she gave no reasons. Non my lord, she left with me her letter to the constable, which she ordered me to give to his own hands as soon as he arrived at the castle. She said he contained a message of importance, which the constable was to convey to the king, and it must be entrusted to nobody, except Colonel Zapp himself. I wonder, my lord, that you didn't notice that the flag was hauled down. Tuck, man, I wasn't staring at the keep, give me the letter. For I saw that the clue to this fresh puzzle must lie under the cover of Zapp's letter. That letter I must myself carry to Zapp's, and without loss of time. Give you the letter, my lord, but pardon me, you're not the constable. He laughed a little. Why, no, said I, mustering a smile. It's true that I'm not the constable, but I'm going to the constable. I had the king's orders to rejoin him as soon as I had seen the queen, and since Her Majesty isn't here I shall return to the lodge directly a fresh horse can be saddled for me. And the constables at the lodge. Come, the letter. Well, I can't give it to you, my lord. Her Majesty's orders were positive. Nonsense! If she had known I should come and not the constable, she would have told me to carry it to him. Well, I don't know about that, my lord. Her orders were plain, and she doesn't like being disobeyed. The stableman had led the horse away. The footman had disappeared. Herman and I were alone. Give me the letter! I said, and I know that my self-control failed, and he eagerness was plain in my voice. Plain it was, and Herman took alarm. He started back, clapping his hand to the rest of his laced coat. The gesture betrayed where the letter was. I was past prudence. I sprang on him, and wrenched his hand away, catching him by the throat with my other hand. Diving into his pocket, I got the letter. Then I suddenly loosed hold of him, for his eyes were starting out of his head. I took out a couple of gold-pieces and gave them to him. It's urgent, you fool! said I. Hold your tongue about it! And without waiting to study his amazed red face, I turned and ran towards the stable. In five minutes I was on a fresh horse. In six I was clear of the castle, heading back fast as I could go for the hunting lodge. Even now Herman remembers the grip I gave him, though doubtless he has long spent the pieces of gold. When I reached the end of this second journey I came in for the obsequence of Boris. James was just patting the ground under the tree with a mattock when I rode up. Zapt was standing by, smoking his pipe. The boots of both were stained and sticky with mud. I flung myself from my saddle and blurted out my news. The constable snatched at his letter with an oath. James levelled the ground with careful accuracy. I do not remember doing anything except wiping my forehead and feeling very hungry. Oh, Lord, she's got after him! said Zapt as he read. When he handed me the letter, I have not set out what the queen wrote. The purport seemed to us who did not share her feelings pathetic indeed, and moving. But in the end, to speak plainly, folly. She had tried to endure her sojourn at Zender, she said, but it drove her mad. She could not rest. She did not know how we fared or how those in Strauss are. For hours she had lain awake. Then at last falling asleep she had dreamt. I had the same dream before. Now it came again. I saw him so plain. He seemed to me to be king and to be called king, but he did not answer nor move. He seemed dead, and I could not rest. So she wrote, ever excusing herself, ever repeating how something drew her to Strauss are, telling her that she must go if she would see him whom you know, alive again. And I must see him if the king has had the letter I am ruined already. If he has not, tell him what you will, or what you can contrive. I must go. It came a second time, and also plain, I saw him. I tell you I saw him. I must see him again. I swear I will only see him once. He's in danger. I know he's in danger, or what does the dream mean? Bern and Simon will go with me, and I shall see him. Do do forgive me. I can't stay. The dream was so plain. Thus she ended, seeming half frantic with the visions that her own troubled brain and desolate heart had conjured up to torment her. I did not know that she had before told Mr. Rassendill himself of this strange dream, though I lay small store by such matters, believing that we ourselves make our dreams, fashioning out of the fears and hopes of today what seems to come by night in the guise of a mysterious revelation. Yet there are some things that a man cannot understand, and I do not profess to measure with my mind the ways of God. However, not why the queen went, but that she had gone concerned us. We had returned to the house now, and James, remembering that men must eat, though kings die, was getting us some breakfast. In fact I had great need of food being utterly worn out, and they, after their labours, were hardly less weary. As we ate, we talked, and it was plain to us that I also must go to Straussau. There in the city the drama must be played out. There was Rudolf, there was Rischenheim, there in all likelihood Rupert of Hentzau, there now the queen, and of these Rupert alone, or perhaps Rischenheim also, knew that the king was dead, and how the issue of last night had shaped itself under the compelling hand of wayward fortune. The king lay in peace on his bed, his grave was dug, zapped and James held the secret with solemn faith and ready lives. To Straussau I must go, to tell the queen that she was widowed, and to aim the stroke at young Rupert's heart. At nine in the morning I started from the lodge. I was bound to ride to Hofbaugh, and there wait for a train which would carry me to the capital. From Hofbaugh I could send a message, but the message must announce only my own coming, not the news I carried. To zapped, thanks to the cipher, I could send word at any time, and he bad me ask Mr. Rassendill whether he should come to our aid or stay where he was. A day must decide the whole thing," he said. We can't conceal the king's death long. For God's sake, Fritz, make an end to that young villain and get the letter. So wasting no time in farewells I set out. By ten o'clock I was at Hofbaugh, for I rode furiously. From there I sent to Bernstein at the palace word of my coming, but there I was delayed. There was no train for an hour. I'll ride," I cried to myself, only to remember the next moment that if I rode I should come to my journey's end much later. There was nothing for it but to wait, and it may be imagined in what mood I waited. Every minute seemed an hour, and I know not to this day how the hour wore itself away. I ate, I drank, I smoked, I walked, sat, and stood. The stationmaster knew me, and thought I had gone mad, till I told him that I carried most important dispatches from the king, and that the delay imperiled great interests. Then he became sympathetic, but what could he do? No special train was to be had at a roadside station. I must wait, and wait, somehow, and without blowing my brains out I did. At last I was in the train. Now indeed we moved, and I came nearer. An hour's run brought me in sight of the city. Then to my unutterable wrath we were stopped, and waited motionless twenty minutes or half an hour. At last we started again, and we not I should have jumped out and run, but a seat longer would have driven me mad. Now we entered the station. With a great effort I calmed myself. I lulled back in my seat. When we stopped I sat there till a porter opened the door. In lazy leisureliness I bad him get me a cab, and followed him across the station. He held the door for me, and, giving him his do-sir, I set my foot on the step. "'Tell him to drive to the palace,' said I, and be quick, I'm late already, thanks to this cursed train. "'The old mural take you there, sir,' said the driver. I jumped in. But at this moment I saw a man on the platform beckoning with his hand, and hastening towards me. The cabman also saw him, and waited. I dared not tell him to drive on, for I feared to betray any undue haste, and it would have looked strange not to spare a moment to my wife's cousin, Anton von Ströftzin. He came up, holding out his hand, delicately gloved in pearl grey kid, for young Anton was a leader of the Strelzau dandies. "'Oh, my dear Fritz,' said he, "'I'm glad I hold no appointment to court, how dreadfully active you all are. I thought you were settled at Zender for a month.' The Queen changed her mind suddenly, said I, smiling, "'Ladies do, as you know well, you who know all about them.' My compliment, or insinuation, produced a pleased smile and a gallant twirling of his moustache. "'Well, I thought you'd be here soon,' he said, "'but I didn't know that the Queen had come.' "'You didn't? Then why did you look for me?' He opened his eyes a little, in languid, elegant surprise. "'Oh, I suppose you'd be on duty or something, and have to come. Aren't you in attendance?' "'On the Queen? No, not just now, but on the King.' "'Why, yes,' said I, and I went forward. "'At least I'm engaged now on the King's business.' "'And precisely,' said he. "'So I thought you'd come, as soon as I heard the King was here. "'It may be that I ought to have preserved my composure, but I'm not zapped or rudolf rassendil.' "'The King here?' I gasped, clutching him by the arm. "'Of course, you didn't know. Yes, he's in town.' "'But I heeded him no more. "'For a moment I could not speak.' Then I cried to the cabin, "'To the palace, and drive like the devil.' We shot away, leaving Anton open-mouthed in wonder. For me I sank back on the cushions, fairly aghast. The King lay dead in the hunting lodge, but the King was in his capital. Of course, the truth soon flashed through my mind, but it brought no comfort. Rudolf Rassendil was in Strelsoll. He had been seen by somebody and taken to the King. But comfort? What comfort was there now that the King was dead and could never come to the rescue of his counterfeit? In fact, the truth was worse than I conceived. Had I known it all, I might well have yielded to despair. For not by chance, uncertain sight of a passer-by, not by mere rumour, which might have been sturdily denied. Not by the evidence of only one or of two was the King's presence in the city known. That day, by the witness of a crowd of people, by his own claim and his own voice, I and by the assent of the Queen herself, Mr Rassendil was taken to be the King in Strelsoll, while neither he nor Queen Flavia knew that the King was dead. I must now relate the strange and perverse succession of events which forced them to employ a resource so dangerous and face a peril so immense, yet great and perilous as they knew the risk to be, even when they dared it, in the light of what they did not know. It was more fearful and more fatal still. Chapter 10 The King in Strelsoll Mr Rassendil reached Strelsoll from Zender without accident, about nine in the evening of the same day as that which witnessed the tragedy of the hunting lodge. He could have arrived sooner, but Prudence did not allow him to enter the popular suburbs of the town till darkness guarded him from notice. The gates of the city were no longer shut at sunset as they used to be in the days when Duke Michael was Governor, and Rudolph passed them without difficulty. Fortunately the night, fine where we were, was wet and stormy at Strelsoll. Thus there were few people in the streets, and he was able to gain the door of my house still unremarked. Here of course a danger presented itself. One of my servants were in the secret, only my wife, in whom the Queen herself had confided new Rudolph, and she did not expect to see him, since she was ignorant of the recent course of events. Rudolph was quite alive to the peril, and regretted the absence of his faithful attendant, who could have cleared the way for him. The pouring rain gave him an excuse for twisting a scarf about his face, and pulling his coat collar up to his ears, while the gusts of wind made the cramming of his hat low down over his eyes, no more than a natural precaution against its loss. Thus masked from curious eyes, he drew rain before my door, and having dismounted rang the bell. When the butler came, a strange horse-voice half stifled by folds of scarf asked for the countess, alleging for pretext a message from myself. The man hesitated as well he might, to leave the stranger alone with the door open, and the contents of the hall at his mercy. Mermoring an apology, in case his visitor should prove to be a gentleman, he shut the door, and went in search of his mistress. His description of the untimely caller, at once roused my wife's quick wit. She had heard from me how Rudolph had ridden once from Strauss out of the hunting lodge with muffled face. A very tall man, with his face wrapped in a scarf and his hat over his eyes, who came with a private message, suggested to her at least a possibility of Mr. Rassendale's arrival. Helga will never admit that she is clever, yet I find she discovers from me what she wants to know, and I suspect hides successfully the small matters of which she, in her wifely discretion, deems I had best remain ignorant. Being able thus to manage me, she was equal to coping with the butler. She laid aside her embroidery most compositely. Ah, yes, she said, I know the gentleman, surely you haven't left him out in the rain. She was anxious, lest Rudolph's features should have been exposed too long to the light of the halllamps. The butler stammered an apology, explaining his fears for our goods and the impossibility of distinguishing social rank on a dark night. Helga cut him short with an impatient gesture, crying, How stupid of you! And herself ran quickly down and opened the door, a little way only, though. The first sight of Mr. Rassendale confirmed her suspicions. In a moment, she said, she knew his eyes. It is you, then, she cried, and my foolish servant has left you in the rain. Pray come in! Oh, but your horse! She turned to the penitent butler, who had followed her downstairs. Take the baron's horse round to the stables, she said. I will send some one at once, my lady. No, no, take it yourself. Take it at once. I'll look after the baron. Reluctantly and ruefully the fat fellow stepped out into the storm. Rudolph drew back and let him pass. Then he entered quickly to find himself alone with Helga in the hall. With a finger on her lips, she led him swiftly into a small sitting-room on the ground floor, which I used as a sort-of office or place of business. He looked out on the street, and the rain could be heard driving against the broad panes of the window. Rudolph turned to her with a smile, and bowing kissed her hand. The baron, what, my dear Countess, he inquired. He won't ask, said she with the shrug. Do tell me what brings you here and what has happened? He told her very briefly, all he knew. She hid bravely her alarm at hearing that I might perhaps meet Rupert at the lodge, and at once listen to what Rudolph wanted of her. Can I get out of the house, and if need be back again unnoticed, he asked. The door is locked at night, and only Fritz and the butler have keys. Mr. Rassendill's eye travelled to the window of the room. I haven't grown so fat that I can't get through there, said he. So we'd better not trouble the butler. He'd talk, you know. I will sit here all night, and keep everybody from the room. I may come back pursued, if I bungle my work, and an alarm is raised. Your work, she asked, shrinking back a little. Yes, said he. Don't ask what it is, Countess. It's in the Queen's service. For the Queen I will do anything and everything, as Fritz would. He took her hand, and pressed it in a friendly, encouraging way. Then I may issue my orders, he asked, smiling. They shall be obeyed. Then a dry cloak, a little supper, and this room to myself, except for you. As he spoke the butler turned the handle of the door. My wife flew across the room, opened the door, and while Rudolf turned his back, directed the man to bring some cold meat, or whatever could be ready, with as little delay as possible. Now, come with me, she said to Rudolf, directly the servant was gone. She took him to my dressing-room, where he got dry clothes. Then she saw the supper laid, ordered a bedroom to be prepared, told the butler that she had business with the baron, and that he need not sit up if she were later than eleven. Dismissed him, and went to tell Rudolf that the coast was clear for his return to the sitting-room. He came, expressing admiration for her courage and address. I take leave to think that she deserved his compliments. He made a hasty supper. Then they talked together, Rudolf smoking his cigar. Eleven came and went, it was not yet time. My wife opened the door and looked out. The hall was dark, the door locked, and its key in the hands of the butler. She closed the door again, and softly locked it. As the clock struck twelve, Rudolf rose and turned the lamp very low. Then he unfastened the shutters noiselessly, raised the window and looked out. "'Shut them again when I'm gone,' he whispered. "'If I come back, I'll knock like this, and you'll open for me.' "'For heaven's sake, be careful,' she murmured, catching at his hand. He nodded reassuringly, and crossing his leg over the window-cell sat there for a moment, listening. The storm was as fierce as ever, and the street was deserted. He let himself down onto the pavement, his face again wrapped up. She watched his tall figure stride quickly along till the turn of the road hid it. Then, having closed the window and the shutters again, she sat down to keep her watch, praying for him, for me, and for her dear mistress the queen. For she knew that perilous work was afoot that night, and did not know whom it might threaten or whom destroy. From the moment that Mr. Ascendil thus left my house at midnight, on his search for Rupert of Hentzow, every hour and almost every moment brought its incident in the swiftly moving drama which decided the issues of our fortune. What we were doing has been told. By now Rupert himself was on his way back to the city, and the queen was meditating in her restless vigil on the resolve that in a few hours was to bring her also to Streltsow. Even in the dead of night both sides were active. For, plan cautiously and skillfully as he might, Rudolf fought with an antagonist who lost no chances, and who had found an apt and useful tool in that same bower, a rascal, and a cunning rascal, if ever one were bred in the world. From the beginning even to the end our error lay in taking too little count of this fellow, and dear was the price we paid. Both to my wife and to Rudolf himself the street had seemed empty of every living being when she watched and he set out. Yet everything had been seen, from his first arrival to the moment when she closed the window after him. At either end of my house there runs out a projection, formed by the bay window so the principal drawing-room and of the dining-room respectively. These projecting walls form shadows, and in the shade of one of them, of which I do not know nor is it of moment, a man watched all that passed. Had he been anywhere else, Rudolf must have seen him. If we had not been too engrossed in playing our own hands, it would doubtless have struck us as probable that Rupert would direct Rischenheim and Bower to keep an eye on my house during his absence, for it was there that any of us who found our way to the city would naturally resort in the first instance. As a fact he had not omitted this precaution. The night was so dark that the spy, who had seen the king but once and never Mr. Asendill, did not recognize who the visitor was, but he rightly conceived that he should serve his employer by tracking the steps of the tall man who made so mysterious an arrival and so surreptitious a departure from the suspected house. Accordingly, as Rudolf turned the corner and Hedhelger closed the window, a short, thick-set figure started cautiously out of the projecting shadow, and followed in Rudolf's wake through the storm. The pair, tracker and tract, met nobody, save here and there a police constable, keeping a most unwilling beat. Even such were few, and for the most part more intent on sheltering in the lee of a friendly wall, and thereby keeping a dry stitch or two on them, and on taking note of passers-by. On the pair went. Now Rudolf turned into the Koenigstrasse. As he did so, Bauer, who must have been nearly a hundred yards behind, for he could not start till the shutters were closed, quickened his pace, and reduced the interval between them to about seventy yards. This he might well have thought a safe distance on a night so wild when the rush of wind and the pelt of rain joined to hide the sound of footsteps. But Bauer reasoned as a townsman, and Rudolf Rassendill had the quick ear of a man bred in the country, and trained to the woodland. All at once there was a jerk of his head. I know so well the motion which marked awakened attention in him. He did not pause nor break his stride, to do either, would have been to betray his suspicions to his follower. But he crossed the road to the opposite side to that where number nineteen was situated, and slackened his pace a little, so that there was a longer interval between his own foot-walls. The steps behind him grew slower, even as his did. Their sound came no nearer. The follower would not overtake. Now, a man who loiters on such a night, just because another ahead of him is fool enough to loiter, has a reason for his action other than what can at first sight be detected. So thought Rudolf Rassendill, and his brain was busyed with finding it out. When an idea seized him, and forgetting the precautions that had hitherto served so well, he came to a sudden stop on the pavement, engrossed in deep thought. Was the man who dogged his steps, Rupert himself? It would be like Rupert to track him, like Rupert to conceive such an attack, like Rupert to be ready either for a fearless assault from the front, or a shameless shot from behind, and indifferent utterly which John suffered, so it threw him one of them. Rassendill asked no better than to meet his enemy thus in the open. They could fight a fair fight, and if he fell, the lamp would be caught up, and carried on by Zap's hand or mine. If he got the better of Rupert, the letter would be his. A moment would destroy it, and give safety to the queen. I do not suppose that he spent time in thinking how he should escape arrest at the hands of the police, whom the fracker would probably arouse. If he did, he may well have reckoned on declaring plainly who he was, of laughing at their surprise over a charged likeness to the king, and of trusting to us to smuggle him beyond the arm of the law. What mattered all that, so that there was a moment in which to destroy the letter? At any rate, he turned full round, and began to walk straight towards Bower, his hand resting on the revolver in the pocket of his coat. Bower saw him coming, and must have known that he was suspected or detected, at once the cunning fellow slouched his head between his shoulders, and set out along the street at a quick shuffle, whistling as he went. Rudolph stood now in the middle of the road, wondering who the man was, whether Rupert purposely disguising his gate or a confederate, or, after all, some person innocent to our secret and indifferent to our schemes. On came Bower, softly whistling, and slushing his feet carelessly through the liquid mud. Now he was nearly opposite where Mr. Rassendill stood. Rudolph was well now convinced that the man had been on his track. He would make certainty sureer. The bold game was always his choice and his delight. This trait he shared with Rupert of Hentzel, and hence arose I think the strange secret inclination he had for his unscrupulous opponent. Now he walked suddenly across the Bower, and spoke to him in his natural voice, at the same time removing the scarf partly, but not altogether, from his face. "'You're out late, my friend, for a night like this?' Bower, startled though he was by the unexpected challenge, had his wits about him. Whether he identified Rudolph at once, I do not know. I think that he must at least have suspected the truth. "'A lad that has no oom to go to must needs be out both late and early, sir,' said he, arresting his shuffling steps, and looking up with that honest stolid air which had made a fool of me. I had described him very minutely to Mr. Rassendill. If Bower knew or guessed who his challenger was, Mr. Rassendill was as well equipped for the encounter. "'No home to go to?' cried Rudolph in a pitting turn. "'How's that?' "'But anyhow, heaven forbid that you or any man should walk the streets a night like this. "'Come, I'll give you a bed. Come with me, and I'll find you good shelter, my boy.' Bower shrank away. He did not see the meaning of this stroke, and his eye, travelling up the street, showed that his thoughts had turned towards flight. Rudolph gave no time for putting any such notion into effect. Maintaining his air of genial compassion, he passed his left arm through Bower's right, saying, "'I am a Christian man, and the bed you shall have this night my lad as sure as I am alive. Come along with me, the devil. It's not weather for standing still.' The carrying of arms in Strelso was forbidden. Bower had no wish to get into trouble with the police, and moreover he had intended nothing but a reconnaissance. He was therefore without any weapon, and he was a child in Rudolph's grasp. He had no alternative but to obey the swasion of Mr. Rassendill's arm, and they too began to walk down the Koenigstrasse. Bower's whistle had died away not to return, but from time to time Rudolph hummed softly a cheerful tune, his fingers beating time on Bower's captive arm. Presently they crossed the road. Bower's lagging steps indicated that he took no pleasure in the change of side, but he could not resist. "'I, you shall go where I am going, my lad,' said Rudolph encouragingly, and he laughed a little as he looked down at the fellow's face. Along they went. Soon they came to the small numbers at the station end of the Koenigstrasse. Rudolph began to peer up at the shop-fronts. "'It's cursed dark,' said he. "'Pray, lad, can you make out which is nineteen?' The moment he had spoken the smile broadened on his face. The shot had gone home. Bower was a clever scoundrel, but his nerves were not under perfect control, and his arm had quivered under Rudolph's. "'Nineteen, sir,' he stammered. "'I, nineteen, that's where we're bound for, you and I. Here I hope we shall find what we want.' Bower seemed bewildered. No doubt he was at a loss, how either to understand or parry the bold attack. "'Ah, this looks like it,' said Rudolph, in a tone of great satisfaction as they came to old Mother Holf's little shop. "'Isn't that a one and a nine over the door, my lad? Ah, and Holf, yes, that's the name. Pray ring the bell. My hands are occupied.' Rudolph's hands were indeed occupied. One held Bower's arm now no longer with a friendly pressure, but with a grip of iron. In the other the captive saw the revolver that had till now lain hidden. "'You see,' asked Rudolph pleasantly, "'you must ring for me, mustn't you? It would startle them if I roused them with a shot.' A motion of the barrel told Bower the direction which the shot would take. "'There's no bell,' said Bower sullenly. "'Ah, then you knock?' "'I suppose so. "'In any particular way, my friend?' "'I don't know,' growled Bower. "'Nor I. Can't you guess?' "'No, I know nothing of it.' "'Well, we must try. You knock, and listen, my lad, you must guess right. You understand?' "'Now can I guess?' asked Bower in an attempt at bluster. "'Indeed, I don't know,' smiled Rudolph, "'but I hate waiting, and if the door is not open in two minutes I shall arouse the good folk with a shot. You see, you quite see, don't you?' Again the barrel's motion pointed and explained Mr. Rassendill's meaning. "'Under this powerful persuasion,' Bower yielded, he lifted his hand and knocked on the door with his knuckles, first loudly, then very softly, the gentler stroke being repeated five times in rapid succession. Clearly he was expected, for without any sound of approaching feet the chain was unfastened with a subdued rattle. Then came the noise of the bolt being cautiously worked back into its socket. As it shot home a chink of the door opened. At the same moment Rudolph's hand slipped from Bower's arm, with the swift movement he caught the fellow by the nape of the neck and flung him violently forward into the roadway, where, losing his footing, he fell sprawling face downward in the mud. Rudolph threw himself against the door, it yielded. He was inside, and in an instant he had shut the door and driven the bolt home again, leaving Bower in the gutter outside. Then he turned, with his hand on the butt of his revolver. I know that he hoped to find Rupert of Hentzauer's face within a foot of his. Rupert Norrischenheim, nor even the old woman, fronted him. The tall and some dark girl faced him, holding an oil-lamp in her hand. He did not know her, but I could have told him that she was Old Mother Holt's youngest child, Rosa, for I had often seen her as I rode through the town of Zender with the King, before the old lady moved her dwelling to Strelso. Indeed, the girl had seemed to haunt the King's footsteps, and he had himself joked on her obvious efforts to attract his tension, and the languishing glances of her great black eyes. But it is the lot of prominent personages to inspire these strange passions, and the King had spent as little thought on her as on any of the romantic girls who found a noughty delight in half fanciful devotion to him, devotion starting, in many cases, by an irony of which the King was happily unconscious, from the brave figure that he made at his coronation, and his picturesque daring in the affair of Black Michael. The worshipers never came near enough to perceive the alteration in their idol. The half-then at least of Rosa's attachment was justly due to the man who now stood opposite to her, looking at her with surprise by the murky light of the strong-smelling oil-lamp. The lamp shook, and almost fell from her hand when she saw him, for the scarf had slid away, and his features were exposed to full view, fright, delight, and excitement vied with one another in her eyes. The King, she whispered in amazement, no, but, and she searched his face wonderingly, is it the beard you miss? Asked Rudolph, fingering his chin, main, King, shave when they please, as well as other men. Her face still expressed bewilderment, and still a lingering doubt. He bent towards her whispering, perhaps I wasn't over anxious to be known at once. She flushed with pleasure at the confidence he seemed to put in her. I should know you anywhere, she whispered, with a glance at the great black eyes, anywhere your majesty. Then you'll help me, perhaps. With my life! No, no, my dear young lady, merely with a little information. Whose home is this? My mother's. Ah! She takes lodgers. The girl appeared vexed at his cautious approaches. Tell me what you want to know, she said simply. Then who's here? My lord the Count of Lutzau-Rischenheim. And what's he doing? He's lying on the bed moaning and swearing, because his wounded arm gives him pain. And is nobody else here? She looked round weirdly, and sank her voice to a whisperer, as she answered, No, not now, nobody else. I was seeking a friend of mine, said Rudolf, and I want to see him alone. It's not easy for a king to see people alone. You mean? Well, you know who I mean. Yes. No, he's gone. But he's gone to find you. To find me? Plague take it. How do you know that, my pretty lady? Bauer told me. Ah! Bauer! And who's Bauer? The man who not. Why did you shut him out? To be alone with you, to be sure. So Bauer tells you his master's secrets. She acknowledged his railery with a coquettish laugh. It was not a miss for the king to see that she had her admirers. Well, and where has this foolish Count gone to meet me? Asked Rudolf lightly. You haven't seen him? No. I came straight from the castle of Zender. But she cried, he expected to find you at the hunting lodge. Ah! But now I recollect the Count of Rischenheim was greatly vexed to find on his return that his cousin was gone. Ah! He was gone. Now I see. Rischenheim brought a message from me to Count Rupert. And they missed one another, your Majesty. Exactly, my dear young lady, very vexatious it is upon my word. In this remark, at least, Rudolf spoke no more and no other than he felt. But when do you expect the Count of Hentzau? He pursued. Early in the morning, your Majesty, at seven or eight. Rudolf came nearer to her and took a couple of gold coins from his pocket. I don't want money, your Majesty, she murmured. Oh! Make a hole in them, and hang them round your neck. Ah! Yes! Yes! Give them to me! She cried, holding out her hand legally. You'll earn them? He asked, playfully holding them out of her reach. How? By being ready to open to me when I come at eleven and knock as Baal knocked. Yes! I'll be there, and by telling nobody that I've been here to-night. Would you promise me that? Not my mother? No. Nor the Count of Lutzau, Rischenheim? Him least of all. You must tell nobody. My business is very private, and Rischenheim doesn't know it. I'll do all you tell me, but Baal knows. True, said Rudolf, Baal knows. Well, we'll see about Baal. As he spoke, he turned towards the door. Suddenly the girl bent, snatched at his hand, and kissed it. I would die for you, she murmured. Poor child, said he gently. I believe he was loath to make profit, even in the Queen's service of her poor, foolish love. He laid his hand on the door. But paused a moment to say, If Baal comes, you have told me nothing, mind nothing. I threatened you, but you told me nothing. He'll tell them you have been here. That can't be helped. At least they won't know when I shall arrive again. Good night! Rudolf opened the door and slipped through, closing it hastily behind him. If Baal got back to the house, his visit must be known. But if he could intercept Baal, the girl's silence was assured. He stood just outside, listening intently and searching the darkness with eager eyes. Kings are in the public domain. CHAPTER XI. What the Chancellor's wife saw. The night, so precious in its silence, solitude and darkness, was waning fast. Soon the first dim approaches of day would be visible. Soon the streets would become alive, and people would be about. Before then, Rudolf Rassendill, the man who bore a face that he dared not show in open day, must be undercover. Elsemen would say that the kings in Strollsville. And the news would flash in a few hours through the kingdom, and, so Rudolf feared, reach even those ears which we knew to be shut to all earthly sounds. But there was still some time at Mr Rassendill's disposal, and he could not spend it better than in pursuing his fight with Baal. Taking a leaf out of the rascal's own book, he drew himself back into the shadow of the house walls, and prepared to wait. At the worst he could keep the fellow from communicating with Rischenheim for a little longer. But his hope was that Baal would steal back after a while, and reconnoitre with a view to discovering how matters stood whether the unwelcome visitor had taken his departure and the way to Rischenheim were open. Wrapping his scarf closely round his face, Rudolf waited, patiently enduring the tedium as he best might, drenched by the rain which fell steadily, and very imperfectly sheltered from the buffeting of the wind. Once went by. There were no signs of Baal, nor of anybody else in the silent street. Yet Rudolf did not venture to leave his post. Baal would seize the opportunity to slip in. Perhaps Baal had seen him come out, and was in his turn waiting till the coast should be clear. Nor again, perhaps the useful spy had gone off to intercept Rupert of Hentzau, and warn him of the danger in the Königsgräther. After the truth, and compelled to accept all these chances, Rudolf waited, still watching the distant beginnings of dawning day, which must soon drive him to his hiding-place again. Meanwhile, my poor wife waited also, a prey to every fear that a woman's sensitive mind can imagine and feed upon. Rudolf turned his head this way and that, seeking always the darker blot of shadow that would mean a human being. For a while his search was vain, but presently he found what he looked for, eye and even more. On the same side of the street, to his left hand from the direction of the station, not one, but three blurred shapes moved up the street. They came stealthily, yet quickly, with caution, but without pause or hesitation. Rudolf, senting danger, flattened himself close against the wall, and felt for his revolver. Very lightly they were only early workers or late revelers, but he was ready for something else. He had not yet sighted Bar, and action was to be looked for from the man. By infinitely gradual side-long slithering, he moved a few paces from the door of Mother Hof's house, and stood six feet, perhaps or eight, on the right-hand side of it. The three came on. He strained his eyes in the effort to discern their features. In that dim light certainly was impossible, but the one in the middle might well be Bauer. The height, the walk, and the make were much what Bauer's were. If it were Bauer, then Bauer had friends, and Bauer and his friends seemed to be stalking some game. Always most carefully and gradually, Rudolf edged yet further from the little shop. At a distance of some five yards he halted finally, drew out his revolver, covered the man whom he took to be Bauer, and thus waited his fortune and his chance. Now it was plain that Bauer, for Bauer it was, would look for one of two things. What he hoped was to find Rudolf still in the house. What he feared was to be told that Rudolf, having fulfilled the unknown purpose of his visit, was gone whole and sound. If the latter tidings met him, these two good friends of his whom he had enlisted for reinforcement, were to have five crowns each, and go home in peace. If the former, they were to do their work, and make ten crowns. Years after one of them told me the whole story without shame or reserve. What their work was, the heavy bludgeons they carried, and the long knife that one of them had lent to Bauer, showed pretty clearly. But neither to Bauer nor to them did it occur that their quarry might be crouching near, hunting as well as hunted. Not that the pair of Ruffians who had been thus higher would have hesitated for that thought, as I imagine. For it is strange, yet certain, that the zenith of courage and the acme of villainy can alike be bought for the price of a lady's glove. Among such outcasts as those from whom Bauer drew his recruits, the murder of a man is held serious only when the police are by, and death at the hands of him they see to kill, is no more than an everyday risk of their employment. Here's the arse, whispered Bauer, stopping at the door. Now, I'll knock, and you stand by to knock him on the end if he runs out. He's got a six-shooter, so I'll lose no time. He'll only fire it in heaven, growl the horse guttural voice that ended in a chuckle. But if he's gone, objected the other auxiliary, then I know where he's gone, answered Bauer. A ruffian stood on either side of the door with uplifted bludgeon. Bauer raised his hand to knock. Rudolph knew that Rischenheim was within, and he feared that Bauer, hearing that the stranger had gone, would take the opportunity of telling the count of his visit. The count would, in his turn, warn Rupert of Hentzow, and the work of catching the ringleader would all fall to be done again. At no time did Mr. Rassendil take count of odds against him. But in this instance he may well have thought himself, with his revolver, a match for the three ruffians. At any rate, before Bauer had time to give the signal, he sprang out suddenly from the wall, and darted at the fellow. His onset was so sudden that the other two fell back a pace. Rudolph caught Bauer fairly by the throat, and do not suppose that he meant to strangle him, but the anger long stored in his heart found vent in the fierce grip of his fingers. It is certain that Bauer thought his time was come unless he struck a blow for himself. Instantly he raised his hand, and thrust fiercely at Rudolph with his long knife. Mr. Rassendil would have been a dead man, and he not loosed his hold and sprung likely away. But Bauer sprang at him again, thrusting with the knife, and crying to his associates, Club him, you fools, club him! Thus exhorted one jumped forward. The moment for hesitation had gone. In spite of the noise of wind and pelting rain, the sound of a shot risked much, but not to fire was death. Rudolph fired, full at Bauer. The fellow saw his intention, and tried to leap behind one of his companions. He was just too late, and fell with a groan to the ground. Again the other ruffians shrank back, appalled by the sudden ruthless decision of the act. Mr. Rassendil laughed. The half's mother, yet uncontrolled oath, broke from one of them. "'By God!' he whispered hoarsely, gazing at Rudolph's face and letting his arm fall to his side. "'By God!' he said then, and his mouth hung open. Again Rudolph laughed at his terrified stare. "'A bigger job than you fan-said, is it?' he asked, pushing his scarf well away from his chin. The man gaped at him. The other's eyes asked wondering questions, but neither did he attempt to resume the attack. The first at last found voice, and he said, "'Well, it'll be damned cheap at ten crowns, and that's a living truth.' His friend, or confederate rather, for such men have no friends, looked on, still amazed. "'Take up that fellow by his head and his heels,' ordered Rudolph. "'Quickly, I suppose you don't want the police to find us here with him, do you?' "'Well, no more do I. Lift him up.' As he spoke, Rudolph turned to knock at the door of number nineteen. But even as he did so, Bauer groaned. Dead perhaps he ought to have been. But it seems to me that fate is always ready to take the cream and leave the scum. His leap aside had served him well after all. He had nearly escaped scot-free. As it was, the bullet, almost missing his head altogether, had just glanced on his temple as it passed. Its impact had stunned, but not killed. Friend Bauer was in unusual luck that night. I wouldn't have taken a hundred to one about his chance of life. Rudolph arrested his hand. It would not do to leave Bauer at the house if Bauer were likely to regain speech. He stood for a moment, considering what to do, but in an instant the thoughts that he tried to gather were scattered again. "'The patrol! The patrol!' Horsely whispered the fellow, who had not yet spoken. There was a sound of the hooves of horses. Down the street from the station end there appeared two mounted men. Without a second moment's hesitation the two rascals dropped their friend Bauer with a third on the ground. One ran at his full speed across the street. The other bolted no less quickly up the Koenigstrasse. Bauer could afford to meet the constables. And who could say what story this red-haired gentleman might tell? I! Or what powers he might command? But in truth Rudolph gave no thought to either his story or his powers. If he were caught the best he could hope would be to lie in the lock-up while Rupert played his game unmolested. The device that he had employed against the amazed Ruffians could be used against lawful authority only as a last and desperate resort. When he could run, run he would. In an instant he also took to his heels, following the fellow who had darted up the Koenigstrasse, but before he had gone very far, coming to a narrow turning he shot down it. Then he paused for a moment to listen. The patrol had seen the sudden dispersal of the group and struck with natural suspicion, quick and pace. A few minutes brought them to where Bauer was. They jumped from their horses and ran to him. He was unconscious, and could, of course, give them no account of how he came to be in his present state. The fronts of all the houses were dark, the doors shut. There was nothing to connect the man stretched on the ground with either number nineteen or any other dwelling. Moreover, the constables were not sure that the sufferer was himself a meritorious object, for his hands still held a long, ugly knife. They were perplexed. They were but two. There was a wounded man to look after. There were three men to pursue, and the three had fled in three separate directions. They looked up at number nineteen. Number nineteen remained dark, quiet, absolutely indifferent. The fugitives were out of sight. Rudolf Rassendil, hearing nothing, had started again on his way. But a minute later he heard a shrill whistle. The patrol was summoning assistance. The man must be carried to the station, and a report made. But other constables might be warned of what had happened, and dispatched in pursuit of the culprits. Rudolf heard more than one answering whistle. He broke into a run, looking for a turning on the left that would take him back in the direction of my house. But he found none. The narrow street twisted and curved in the bewildering way that characterizes the old parts of the town. Rudolf had spent some time once in Strelsove. But a king learned little of back streets, and he was soon fairly puzzled as to his whereabouts. Day was dawning, and he began to meet people here and there. He dared run no more. Even had his breath lasted him. Winding the scarf about his face, and cramming his hat over his forehead again, he fell into an easy walk, wondering whether he could venture to ask his way. Rudolf to find no signs that he was being pursued, trying to persuade himself that Bower, though not dead, was at least incapable of embarrassing disclosures. Above all, conscious of the danger of his tell-tale face, and of the necessity of finding some shelter before the city was all stirring and awake. At this moment he heard horses' hooves behind him. He was now at the end of the street, where it opened on the square in which the barracks stand. He knew his bearings now, and had he not been interrupted, could have been back to save shelter in my house in twenty minutes. But, looking back, he saw the figure of a mounted constable just coming into sight behind him. The man seemed to see Rudolf, for he broke into a quick trot. Mr. Rassendill's position was critical. This fact alone accounts for the dangerous step into which he allowed himself to be forced. Here he was, a man unable to give account of himself, of remarkable appearance, and carrying a revolver of which one barrel was discharged. And there was Bauer, a wounded man, shot by somebody with a revolver a quarter of an hour before. Even to be questioned was dangerous. To be detained meant ruin to the great business that engaged his energies. For all he knew the patrol had actually cited him as he ran. His fears were not vain, for the constable raised his voice, saying, Hi, sir! You there! Stop a minute! Resistance was the one thing worse than to yield. We, to not force, must find escape this time. Rudolf stopped, looking round again with the surprised air. Then he drew himself up with an assumption of dignity, and waited for the constable. If that last card must be played, he would win the hand with it. Well, what do you want? He asked coldly, when the man was a few yards from him. And as he spoke, he withdrew the scarf almost entirely from his features, keeping it only over his chin. You call very preromptorily? He continued, staring contemptuously. Watch your business with me. With a violent start the sergeant, for such the star on his collar and the lace on his cuff proclaimed him, lent forward in the saddle to look at the man whom he had hailed. All said nothing, and did not move. The man's eyes studded his face intently. Then he sat bolt upright and saluted. His face died to a deep red in his sudden confusion. �And why do you salute me now?� asked Rudolf, in a mocking tone. �First you hunt me. Then you salute me. By heaven I don't know why you put yourself out at all about me!� �I—I—� the fellow stuttered. Then trying a fresh start he stammered, �Your Majesty, I didn't know. I didn't suppose�� Rudolf stepped towards him with a quick decisive tread. �And why do you call me your Majesty?� he asked, still mockingly. �Isn't it your Majesty?� Rudolf was close by him now, his hand on the horse's neck. He looked up into the sergeant's face with steady eyes, saying, �You make a mistake, my friend. I am not the king. You are not�� stuttered the bewildered fellow, �by no means.� �And sergeant, your Majesty?� �Sir, you mean?� �Yes, sir.� �A zealous officer, sergeant, can make no greater mistake than to take for the king a gentleman who is not the king. It might injure his prospects. Since the king, not being here, might and wish to have it suppose that he was here. �Do you follow me, sergeant?� The man said nothing, but stared hard. After a moment Rudolf continued, �In such a case,� said he, �a discreet officer would not trouble the gentleman any more, and would be very careful not to mention that he had made such a silly mistake.� Indeed, if questioned, he would answer, without hesitation, that he hadn�t seen anybody even like the king, much less the king himself. A doubtful, puzzled little smile spread under the sergeant�s moustache. �You see, the king is not even in Strelzau,� said Rudolf. �Not in Strelzau, sir.� �Why, no, he�s at Zender.� �Ah, ah, Zender, sir.� �Certainly.� �It is therefore impossible, physically impossible, that he should be here.� The fellow was convinced that he understood now. �It�s certainly impossible, sir,� said he, smiling more broadly. �Absolutely, and therefore impossible also that you should have seen him.� With this Rudolf took a gold-piece from his pocket, and handed it to the sergeant. The fellow took it with something like a wink. �As for you, you�ve searched here and found nobody,� concluded Mr. Rassendil. �So, hadn�t you better at once, somewhere else?� �Without doubt, sir� said the sergeant, and with the most deferential salute, and another confidential smile, he turned and rode back the way he had come. No doubt he wished that he could meet a gentleman who was not the king every morning of his life. It hardly need be said that all idea of connecting the gentleman with the crime committed in the Königstrasse had vanished from his mind. Thus Rudolf won freedom from the man�s interference, but at a dangerous cost. How dangerous he did not know. It was indeed most impossible that the king could be in Streltsar. He lost no time now in turning his steps towards his refuge. It was past five o�clock. Day came quickly, and the streets began to be peopled by men and women on their way to open stalls or buy in the market. Rudolf crossed the square at a rapid walk, for he was afraid of the soldiers who were gathering for early duty opposite to the barracks. Fortunately he passed by them unobserved, and gained the comparative seclusion of the street in which my house stands without encountering any further difficulties. In truth he was almost in safety, but bad luck was now to have its turn. When Mr. Ascendil was no more than fifty yards from my door, a carriage suddenly drove up and stopped a few paces in front of him. The footman sprang down and opened the door. Two ladies got out. They were dressed in evening costume and were returning from a ball. One was middle-aged, the other young and rather pretty. They stood for a moment on the pavement, the younger saying, �Isn�t it pleasant, mother? I wish I could always be up at five o�clock. My dear, you wouldn�t like it for long,� answered the elder. �It�s very nice for a change, but� she stopped abruptly. Her eye had fallen on Rudolf Ascendil. He knew her. She was no less a person than the wife of Helsing, the Chancellor. His was the house at which the carriage had stopped. The trick that had served with the sergeant of police would not do now. She knew the King too well to believe that she could be mistaken about him, that she was too much of a busybody to be content to pretend that she was mistaken. �A good gracious� she whispered loudly, and catching her daughter�s arm, she murmured, �Heavens, my dear! It�s the King!� Rudolf was caught. Not only the ladies, but their servants were looking at him. Flight was impossible. He walked by them. The ladies curtsied. The servants bowed bare-headed. Rudolf touched his hat and bowed slightly in return. He walked straight on towards my house. They were watching him, and he knew it. Most heartily did he curse the untimely hours to which folks keep up their dancing. But he thought that a visit to my house would afford as plausible an excuse for his presence as any other. So he went on. Surveyed by the wondering ladies, and by the servants who, smothering smiles, asked one another what brought his majesty abroad in such a plight, for Rudolf�s clothes were soaked, and his boots muddy, at such an hour, and that in Strelso, when all the world thought he was at Zender. Rudolf reached my house. Knowing that he was watched, he had abandoned all intention of giving the signal agreed on between my wife and himself, and of making his way in through the window. Such a sight would indeed have given the excellent Baroness von Helsing matter for gossip. It was better to let every servant in my house see his open entrance. But, alas, virtue itself sometimes leads to ruin. My dearest Helga, sleepless and watchful in the interest of her mistress, was even now behind the shutter, listening with all her ears and peering through the chinks. No sooner Rudolf's footsteps became audible than she cautiously unfastened the shutter, opened the window, put her pretty head out, and called softly, �All safe, come in.� The mischief was done then, for the faces of Helsing�s wife and daughter, I and the faces of Helsing�s servants, were intent on this most strange spectacle. Rudolf, turning his head over his shoulder, saw them. A moment later, poor Helga saw them also. Innocent and untrained in controlling her feelings, she gave a shrill little cry of dismay, and hastily drew back. Rudolf looked round again. The ladies had retreated to the cover of the porch, but he still saw their eager faces peering from between the pillars that supported it. �I may as well go in now� said Rudolf, and in he sprang. There was a merry smile on his face as he ran forward to meet Helga, who lent against the table, paled and agitated. �They saw you� she gasped. �Undoubtedly� said he. Then his sense of amusement conquered everything else, and he sat down in a chair, laughing. �I�d give my life� said he, to hear the story that the Chancellor will be waked up to hear in a minute or two from now. But a moment�s thought made him grave again. For whether he were the king or Rudolf Rassendil, he knew that my wife�s name was in equal peril. Knowing this, he stood at nothing to serve her. He turned to her and spoke quickly. �You must rouse one of the servants at once, send him round to the Chancellor�s, and tell the Chancellor to come here directly. �No, write a note, say the king has come by appointment to see Fritz on some private business, but that Fritz has not kept the appointment, and that the king must now see the Chancellor at once. Say there�s not a moment to lose� she was looking at him with wondering eyes. �Don�t you see� he said. �If I can impose on Helsing, I may stop those women�s tongues. If nothing�s done, how long do you suppose it�ll be before all Strelsow knows that Fritz von Tallenheim�s wife let the king in the window at five o�clock in the morning? �I don�t understand� murmured poor Helgaer in bewilderment. �No, my dear lady, but for heaven�s sake do what I ask of you. It�s the only chance now.� �I�ll do it� she said, and sat down to write. Thus it was, that hard on the marvellous tidings which, as I conjecture, the Baroness von Helsing poured into her husband�s drowsy ears, came an imperative summons that the Chancellor should wait on the king at the house of Fritz von Tallenheim. Truly we had tempted fate too far by bringing Rudolf Rassendill again to Strelsow. CHAPTER XII Great as was the risk, and immense as were the difficulties created by the course which Mr. Rassendill adopted, I cannot doubt that he acted for the best in the light of the information which he possessed. His plan was to disclose himself in the character of the king to Helsing, to bind him to secrecy, and make him impose the same obligation on his wife, daughter, and servants. The Chancellor was to be quieted with the excuse of urgent business, and conciliated by a promise that he should know its nature in the course of a few hours. Meanwhile an appeal to his loyalty must suffice to ensure obedience. If all went well in the day that had now dawned, by the evening of it the letter would be destroyed, the queen's peril passed, and Rudolf once more far away from Strelsow. Then enough of the truth, no more, must be disclosed. Helsing would be told the story of Rudolf Rassendill, and persuaded to hold his tongue about the harem scare of Englishmen. We are ready to believe much of an Englishman. Having been audacious enough again to play the king in Strelsow. The old Chancellor was a very good fellow, and I do not think that Rudolf did wrong in relying upon him. Where he miscalculated was, of course, just where he was ignorant. The whole of what the queen's friends, I and the queen herself did in Strelsow, became useless and mischievous by reason of the king's death. Their action must have been utterly different had they been aware of that catastrophe. But their wisdom must be judged only according to their knowledge. In the first place the Chancellor himself showed much good sense. Even before he obeyed the king's summons, he sent for the two servants and charged them on pain of instant dismissal and worse things to follow, to say nothing of what they had seen. His commands to his wife and daughter were more polite, doubtless, but no less peremptory. He may well have supposed that the king's business was private as well as important when it led his majesty to be roaming the streets of Strelsow at a moment when he was supposed to be at the castle of Zender, and to enter a friend's house by the window at such untimely hours. The mere facts were eloquent of secrecy. Moreover, the king had shaved his beard. The ladies were sure of it, and this again, though it might be merely an accidental coincidence, was also capable of signifying a very urgent desire to be unknown. So the Chancellor, having given his orders and being himself aflame with the liveliest curiosity, lost no time in obeying the king's commands, and arrived at my house before six o'clock. When the visitor was announced, Rudolph was upstairs having a bath and some breakfast. Helga had learned her lesson well enough to entertain the visitor until Rudolph appeared. She was full of apologies for my absence, protesting that she could in no way explain it. Neither could she so much as conjecture what was the king's business with her husband. She played the dutiful wife, whose virtue was obedience, whose greatest sin would be an indiscreet prying into what it was not her part to know. I know no more, she said, than that Fritz wrote to me to expect the king and him at about five o'clock, and to be ready to let them in by the window, as the king did not wish the servants to be aware of his presence. The king came and greeted Helsing most graciously. The tragedy and comedy of those busy days was strangely mingled. Even now I can hardly help smiling when I picture Rudolph with grave lips, but that distant twinkle in his eye, I swear he enjoyed the sport. Sitting down by the old chancellor in the darkest corner of the room, covering him with flattery, hinting at most strange things, deploring a secret obstacle to immediate confidence, promising that, tomorrow at the latest, he would seek the advice of the wisest and most tried of his counselors, appealing to the chancellor's loyalty to trust him till then. Helsing, blinking through his spectacles, followed with devout attention the long narrative that told nothing, and the urgent exhortation that masked the trick. His accents were almost broken with emotion as he put himself absolutely at the king's disposal, and declared that he could answer for the discretion of his family and household as completely as for his own. Then you're a very lucky man, my dear chancellor, said Rudolph, with a sigh that seemed to hint that the king in his palace was not so fortunate. Helsing was immensely pleased. He was all a god to go and tell his wife how entirely the king trusted to her honor and silence. There was nothing that Rudolph more desired than to be relieved of the excellent old fellow's presence, but well aware of the supreme importance of keeping him in a good temper, he would not hear of his departure for a few minutes. At any rate, the ladies won't talk till after breakfast, and since they got home only at five o'clock, they won't breakfast yet a while, said he. So he made Helsing sit down and talk to him. Rudolph had not failed to notice that the count of Lutzau-Ruschenheim had been a little surprised at the sound of his voice. In this conversation, he studiously kept his tones low, affecting a certain weakness and huskiness such as he had detected in the king's utterance, as he listened behind the curtain in zaptorum at the castle. The part was played as completely and triumphantly as in the old days, when he ran the gauntlet of every eye in Straussau. Yet if he had not taken such pains to conciliate old Helsing, but had let him depart, he might not have found himself driven to a greater and even more hazardous deception. They were conversing together alone. My wife had been prevailed on by Rudolph to lie down in her room for an hour. Saul in eating rest she had obeyed him, having first given strict orders that no member of the household should enter the room where the two were, except on an express summons. Fearing suspicion, she and Rudolph had agreed that it was better to rely on these injunctions than to lock the door again as they had the night before. But while these things passed at my house, the queen and Bernstein were on their way to Straussau. Perhaps, had zapped been at Zender, his powerful influence might have availed to check the impulsive expedition. Bernstein had no such authority and could only obey the queen's prerontory orders and pathetic prayers. Ever since Rudolph Rassendil left her three years before, she had lived in stern self-repression, never her true self, never for a moment able to be or to do what to every hour her heart urged on her. How are these things done? I doubt if a man lives who could do them. But women live who do them? Now his sudden coming, and the train of stirring events that accompanied it, his danger and hers, his words and her enjoyment for his presence, had all worked together to shatter her self-control, and the strange dream, heightening the emotion which was its own cause, left her with no conscious desire, safe to be near Mr. Rassendil, and scarcely with the fear except for his safety. As they journeyed, her talk was all of his peril, never of the disaster which threatened herself, and which we were all striving with might and mayne to avert from her head. She travelled alone with Bernstein, getting rid of the lady who attended her by some careless pretext, and she urged on him continually to bring her as speedily as might be to Mr. Rassendil. I cannot find much blame for her. Rudolf stood for all the joy in her life, and Rudolf had gone to fight with the Count of Hentzow. What wonder that she saw him as it were dead? Yet still she would have it that in his seeming death all men hailed him for their king. Well it was her love that crowned him. As they reached the city, she grew more composed, being persuaded by Bernstein that nothing in her bearing must rouse suspicion. Yet she was none the less resolved to seek Mr. Rassendil at once. In truth she feared even then to find him dead, so strong was the hold of her dream on her, until she knew that he was alive she could not rest. Bernstein, fearful that the strain would kill her, or rob her of reason, promised everything, and declared with the confidence which he did not feel, that beyond doubt Mr. Rassendil was alive and well. But where? Where? she cried eagerly, with clasped hands. We are most likely, madam, to find him at Fritz von Tarlinheim's, answered the lieutenant. He would wait there till the time came to attack Rupert, or if the thing is over he will have returned there. Then let us drive there at once, she urged. Bernstein, however, persuaded her to go to the palace first, and let it be known there that she was going to pay a visit to my wife. She arrived at the palace at eight o'clock, took a cup of chocolate, and then ordered her carriage. Bernstein alone accompanied her when she set out for my house, about nine. He was by now hardly less agitated than the queen herself. In her entire preoccupation with Mr. Rassendil she gave little thought to what might have happened at the hunting-lodge, but Bernstein grew gloomy auguries from the failure of Zapt and myself to return at the proper time. Either evil had befallen us, or the letter had reached the king before we arrived at the lodge. The probabilities seemed to him to be confined to these alternatives. Yet when he spoke in this strain to the queen, he could get from her nothing except. If we can find Mr. Rassendil he will tell us what to do. Thus, then, a little after nine in the morning, the queen's carriage drove up to my door. The ladies of the chancellor's family had enjoyed a very short night's rest, for their heads came bobbing out of the window the moment the wheels were heard. Many people were about now, and the crown of the panels attracted the usual small crowd of loiterers. Bernstein sprang out and gave his hand to the queen. With a hasty slight bow to the onlookers, she hastened up the two or three steps of the porch, and with her own hand rang the bell. Inside the carriage had just been observed. My wife's waiting-maid ran hastily to her mistress. Helga was lying on her bed. She rose at once, and after a few moments of necessary preparations—or such preparations as seem to ladies necessary, however great the need of haste may be—hurried downstairs to receive her majesty, and to warn her majesty. She was too late. The door was already open. The butler and the footman had both run to it, and thrown it open for the queen. As Helga reached the foot of the stairs, her majesty was just entering the room where Rudolf was, the servants attending her and Bernstein standing behind his helmet in his hand. Rudolf and the chancellor had been continuing their conversation. To avoid the observation of passers-by, for the interior of the room is easy to see from the street, the blind had been drawn down, and the room was in deep shadow. They had heard the wheels, but neither of them dreamt that the visitor could be the queen. It was an utter surprise to them when, without their orders, the door was suddenly flung open. The chancellor, slow of movement, and not, if I may say it, over a quick of brain, sat in his corner for half a minute or more before he rose to his feet. On the other hand, Rudolf Rassendil was the best part of the way across the room in an instant. Helga was at the door now, and she thrust her head round young Bernstein's broad shoulders. Thus she saw what happened. The queen, forgetting the servants and not observing Helsing, seeming indeed to stay for nothing and to think of nothing but to have her thoughts and her heart filled with the sight of the man she loved, and the knowledge of his safety. Meet him as he ran towards her, and before Helga or Bernstein or Rudolf himself could stay her, or conceive what she was about to do, caught both his hands in hers with an intense grasp, crying, Rudolf, you're safe! Thank God! Oh, thank God! And she carried his hands to her lips, and kissed them passionately. A moment of absolute silence followed, dictated in the servants by decorum, in the chancellor by consideration, in Helga and Bernstein by utter consternation. Rudolf himself also was silent. But whether from bewilderment, or an emotion answering to hers, I know not. Either it might well be. The stillness struck her. She looked up in his eyes. She looked round the room, and saw Helsing, now bowing profoundly from the corner. She turned her head with a sudden frightened jerk, and glanced at my motionless deferential servants. Then it came upon her what she had done. She gave a quick gasp for breath, and her face always pale, went white as marble. Her features set in a strange stiffness, and suddenly she reeled where she stood and fell forward. Only Rudolf's hand bore her up. Thus, for a moment, too short to reckon, they stood. Then he, a smile of great love and pity coming on his lips, drew her to him, and passing his arm around her waist, thus supported her. Then, smiling still, he looked down on her, and said in a low tone, yet distinct enough for all to hear. All is well, dearest. My wife gripped Bernstein's arm, and he turned to find her pale face, too, with quivering lips and shining eyes. But the eyes had a message, and an urgent one for him. He read it. He knew that it bad him second what Rudolf Rassendill had done. He came forward and approached Rudolf. Then he fell on one knee, and kissed Rudolf's left hand that was extended to him. I am very glad to see you, Lieutenant von Bernstein, said Rudolf Rassendill. For a moment the thing was done. Ruin averted and safety secured. Everything had been at stake. That there was such a man as Rudolf Rassendill might have been disclosed, that he had once filled the king's throne was a high secret which they were prepared to trust to Helsing under stress of necessity. But there remained something which must be hidden at all costs, and which the queen's passionate exclamation had threatened to expose. There was a Rudolf Rassendill, and he had been king. But more than all this the queen loved him, and he the queen. That could be told to none, not even to Helsing, for Helsing, though he would not gossip in the town, would yet hold himself bound to carry the matter to the king. So Rudolf chose to take any future difficulties, rather than that present and certain disaster. Sooner than entail it on her he loved, he claimed for himself the place of her husband, and the name of the king. And she, clutching at the only chance that her act left, was content to have it so. It may be that for an instant her weary tortured brain found sweet rest in the dim dream that it was so. For she let her head lie there on his breast, and her eyes closed, her face looking very peaceful, and a soft little sigh escaping in pleasure from her lips. But every moment bore its peril, and exacted its effort. Rudolf led the queen to a couch, and then briefly charged the servants not to speak of his presence for a few hours. As they had no doubt perceived, said he, from the queen's agitation, important business was on foot. It demanded his presence in Strelsov, but required also that his presence should not be known. A short time would free them from the obligation which he now asked of their loyalty. When they had withdrawn, bowing obedience, he turned to Helsing, pressed his hand warmly, reiterated his quest for silence, and said that he would summon the chancellor to his presence again later in the day, either where he was or at the palace. Then he bade all withdrawal, and leave him alone for a little with the queen. He was obeyed, but Helsing had hardly left the house, when Rudolf called Bernstein back, and with him my wife, Helga hastened to the queen, who was still sorely agitated. Rudolf drew Bernstein aside, and exchanged with him all their news. Mr. Rassendil was much disturbed at finding that no tidings had come from Colonel Zapp and myself, but his apprehension was greatly increased on learning the untoward accident by which the king himself had been at the lodge the night before. Indeed he was utterly in the dark. Where the king was, where Rupert, where we were, he did not know, and he was here in Strelsov, known as the king to half a dozen people or more, protected only by their promises, liable at any moment to be exposed by the coming of the king himself, or even by a message from him. Yet in face of all perplexities, perhaps even the more because of the darkness in which he was enveloped, Rudolf held firm to his purpose. There were two things that seemed plain. If Rupert had escaped the trap, and was still alive with the letter on him, Rupert must be found. Here was the first task. That accomplished the remain for Rudolf himself, nothing save to disappear as quietly and secretly as he had come, trusting that his presence could be concealed from the man whose name he had usurped. Nay, if need were, the king must be told that Rudolf Rassendil had played a trick on the Chancellor, and having enjoyed his pleasure was gone again. Everything could, in the last resort, be told, save that which touched the queen's honour. At this moment the message which I dispatched from the station at Hofbaugh reached my house. There was a knock at the door. Bernstein opened it, and took the telegram which was addressed to my wife. I had written all that I dared to trust to such a means of communication. And here it is. I am coming to Strelzau. The king will not leave the lodge today. The count came, but left before we arrived. I do not know whether he has gone to Strelzau. He gave no news to the king. Then they didn't get him, cried Bernstein in deep disappointment. No, but he gave no news to the king, said Rudolf triumphantly. They were all standing now round the queen, who sat on the couch. She seemed very faint and weary, but at peace. It was enough for her that Rudolf fought and planned for her. And, see this, Rudolf went on, the king will not leave the lodge today. Thank God, then we have to-day. Yes, but where's Rupert? We shall know in an hour if he's in Strelzau. And Mr. Rassendil looked as though it would please him well to find Rupert in Strelzau. Yes, I must seek him. I shall stand at nothing to find him. If I can only get to him as the king, then I'll be the king. We have to-day. My message put them in heart again, although it left so much still unexplained. Rudolf turned to the queen. Courage, my queen, said he, a few hours now we'll see the end of all our dangers. And then, she asked, then you'll be safe and at rest, said he, bending over her and speaking softly, and I shall be proud in the knowledge of having saved you. And you, I must go. Helga heard him whisper as he bent lower still, and she and Bernstein moved away.