efore on learning that I was in communication
with Rudolf; so completely had jealousy destroyed gratitude in his
breast. If he had known what I carried, I do not think that he could
have hated his preserver more. Very likely some such feeling was natural
enough; it was none the less painful to perceive.

On leaving the king's presence, I sought out the Constable of Zenda. He
knew my errand; and, sitting down beside him, I told him of the letter
I carried, and arranged how to apprise him of my fortune surely and
quickly. He was not in a good humor that day: the king had ruffled him
also, and Colonel Sapt had no great reserve of patience.

"If we haven't cut one another's throats before then, we shall all be at
Zenda by the time you arrive at Wintenberg," he said. "The court moves
there to-morrow, and I shall be there as long as the king is."

He paused, and then added: "Destroy the letter if there's any danger."

I nodded my head.

"And destroy yourself with it, if there's the only way," he went on with
a surly smile. "Heaven knows why she must send such a silly message at
all; but since she must, she'd better have sent me with it."

I knew that Sapt was in the way of jeering at all sentiment, and I
took no notice of the terms that he applied to the queen's farewell. I
contented myself with answering the last part of what he said.

"No, it's better you should be here," I urged. "For if I should lose the
letter--though there's little chance of it--you could prevent it from
coming to the king."

"I could try," he grinned. "But on my life, to run the chance for a
letter's sake! A letter's a poor thing to risk the peace of a kingdom
for."

"Unhappily," said I, "it's the only thing that a messenger can well
carry."

"Off with you, then," grumbled the colonel. "Tell Rassendyll from me
that he did well. But tell him to do something more. Let 'em say good-by
and have done with it. Good God, is he going to waste all his life
thinking of a woman he never sees?" Sapt's air was full of indignation.

"What more is he to do?" I asked. "Isn't his work here done?"

"Ay, it's done. Perhaps it's done," he answered. "At least he has given
us back our good king."

To lay on the king the full blame for what he was would have been rank
injustice. Sapt was not guilty of it, but his disappointment was bitter
that all our efforts had secured no better ruler for Ruritania. Sapt
could serve, but he liked his master to be a man.

"