Rupert of Hentzau

unning plan and mocking our wiliness, twisted and turned our device to a predetermined but undreamt-of issue, of which we were most guiltless in thought or intent. Had the king not gone to the huntin

there was no warrant on which he could be apprehended; and, although his connection with Black Michael was a matter of popular gossip, he felt himself safe from arrest by virtue of the secret that protected him. Accordingly he walked out of the house, went to the station, took his ticket to Hofbau, and, traveling by the four o’clock train, reached his destination about half-past five. He must have passed the train in which Rischenheim traveled; the first news the latter had of his departure was from a porter at the station, who, having recognized the Count of Hentzau, ventured to congratulate Rischenheim on his cousin’s return. Rischenheim made no answer, but hurried in great agitation to the house in the Konigstrasse, where the old woman Holf confirmed the tidings. Then he passed through a period of great irresolution. Loyalty to Rupert urged that he should follow him and share the perils int

quickly, than safety allowed. Once James’s horse stumbled in the darkness and its rider was thrown; more than once a low bough hanging over the path nearly swept me, dead or stunned, from my seat. Sapt paid no attention to these mishaps or threatened mishaps. He had taken the lead, and, sitting well down in his saddle, rode ahead, turning neither to right nor left, never slackening his pace, sparing neither himself nor his beast. James and I were side by side behind him. We rode in silence, finding nothing to say to on

enter on pretext of having been sent by the queen to attend to her husband’s comfort and arrange for his return without further fatigue next day. If Rupert had come and gone, the king’s demeanor would probably betray the fact; if he had not yet come, I and James, patrolling outside, would bar his passage. There was a t

out forty yards from the front of it. All at once

match,” h

hes till we reached a tree twenty yards from the door. Here the hoof marks ceased; but beyond there was a double track of human feet in the soft black earth; a man had gone thence to the house and returned from the house thither. On the ri

doubted in our hearts that the tracks were made by the coming of Hentzau

, who was in uniform, loosened his sword in its sheath; James and I looked to our revolvers. There were no lights visible in the lodge; the door was shut; everything was still. Sapt kn

” whispered the colonel. “Give

was another sound — a muffled exclamation, and a noise of a man stumbling; a sword, too, clattered on the stones of the passage. We looked at one another; the noise did not produce any answering stir in the house;

it?” I w

l,” sa

r wh

ee. James,

r the distance of eight or

a lamp anywhe

match,” he answered. “Here

struck I saw a dark body

?” I guesse

nstant Sapt muttered, “Ay, there’s a lamp,” and, stretching up his hand to a little oil lamp that stood on a bracket, he lit it, took

I, still in a whisper, although t

her uncertain temper towards the rest of the world. However, de mortuis nil nisi bonum; there he lay dead in the passage. Sapt put his hand on the beast’s

d the constable. “H

as a horn coat-button. I took hold of the cloth and pulled. Boris held on even in death. Sapt drew his sword, a

and, holding the lamp in one hand and his sword (which he did not resheathe)

whence he had set out to be crowned in Strelsau. On the right of it was the room where the king slept, and farther along in the same di

sage on our left (as we faced the door) a low moan, and then a dragging sound, as if a man were crawling along the floor, painfully trailing his limbs after him. Sapt held the lamp in th

he said in

the constable, stepping up t

faint, and, I think, wand

ht. No more hunting for me, sir. I’ve got it here in the stoma

ling on one knee, I proppe

rt, crisp voice while I got the man into t

were not impatient, but heard without a thought of time. I looked round once at a sound, and found that James, anxious about us, had stolen along the passage and joined us. Sapt took no notice

ar duties, when suddenly (thus he told it) he found a man standing beside him. He did not know (he was new to the king’s service) who the unexpected visitor was, but he was of middle height, dark, h

drew back. He was unarmed, but, being a stout fellow, was prepared to defend his master as best he could. Rupert — beyond doubt it was Rupert — laughed lightly, saying again, “Man, he expects

tranger carried a revolver. Whatever the king’s faults might be-and God forbid that I should speak hardly of him whom fate used so hardly — he was no coward. He sprang from his bed; at the same moment the great boar-hound uncoiled himself and came from beneath, yawning and fawning. B

way. I have said that the king was no coward, yet I think, that the sight of Rupert, bringing back the memory of his torments in the d

’s alarm pleased him. To inspire terror was his delight, and it does not come to every man to str

ering his composure a little, he sai

n a scarcely conscious movement, born of the desire to assure himself of its presence. With a cry of alarm Herbert flung himself before the king, who sank back on the bed.

claimed the kin

a sudden thought, he held up the b

ll talk afterwards,” and he stretc

ge, for the king whispered to Herb

ercame him: if there were a trap, every moment’s delay doubled his danger. With a scornful laugh he exclaimed, “Catch it, the

ack on his knee. The packet that he had flung lay unheeded. The king, wild with alarm and furious with anger at his favorite’s fate, jumped up and ran past Rupert into the next room. Herbert followed; even as they went Rupert flung the wounded, weakened beast from him and darted to the doorway. He found himself facing Herbert, who held a boar-spear, and the king, who had a double-barreled hunting-gun. He raised his left hand, H

fail him — hit, the king missed; Herbert saw the count stand for an instant with his smoking barrel in his hand, looking at the king, who lay on the

his head from the ground. There was a growl, an oath, the sound of the scuffle. Rupert must have turned in time to receive the dog’s spring. The beast, maimed and crippled by his shattered shoulder, did not reach his enemy’s face, but his teeth tore away the bit of cloth that we had found held in the vise of his jaws. Then came another shot, a laugh, retreating steps, and a door slammed. With that last sound H

again slapping his tongue against them. Then I looked at Sapt. He was as pale as a ghost, and the lines on his face seemed to have grown deeper. He glanced up, and met my regard. Neither of us spo

zed Sapt by the arm. H

I whispere

king,” h

the smoke hung about, curling in dim coils round the chandelier which gave a subdued light. James had the lamp now, and followed us with it. But the king was not there. A sudden hope filled me. He had not been killed

him for a moment; the silence seemed deeper than silence could be. At last, moved by a common impulse, we stepped forward, but timidly, as though we approached

king’s hand, stained with the king’sblood, was the box that I had carried to Wintenberg and Rupert of Hentzau had brought to the lodge that night. It

udden eagerness. “Is

lived the king, and he had gone to his death unknowing. All at once — I c

t again, for in the dim

I an

d, for Sapt’s, the voice