Ay, I'm afraid the lad's work here is done," he said, as I shook him
by the hand. Then a sudden light came in his eyes. "Perhaps not," he
muttered. "Who knows?"

A man need not, I hope, be deemed uxorious for liking a quiet dinner
alone with his wife before he starts on a long journey. Such, at least,
was my fancy; and I was annoyed to find that Helga's cousin, Anton von
Strofzin, had invited himself to share our meal and our farewell. He
conversed with his usual airy emptiness on all the topics that were
supplying Strelsau with gossip. There were rumors that the king was
ill; that the queen was angry at being carried off to Zenda; that the
archbishop meant to preach against low dresses; that the chancellor was
to be dismissed; that his daughter was to be married; and so forth.
I heard without listening. But the last bit of his budget caught my
wandering attention.

"They were betting at the club," said Anton, "that Rupert of Hentzau
would be recalled. Have you heard anything about it, Fritz?"

If I had known anything, it is needless to say that I should not have
confided it to Anton. But the suggested step was so utterly at variance
with the king's intentions that I made no difficulty about contradicting
the report with an authoritative air. Anton heard me with a judicial
wrinkle on his smooth brow.

"That's all very well," said he, "and I dare say you're bound to say so.
All I know is that Rischenheim dropped a hint to Colonel Markel a day or
two ago."

"Rischenheim believes what he hopes," said I.

"And where's he gone?" cried Anton, exultantly. "Why has he suddenly
left Strelsau? I tell you he's gone to meet Rupert, and I'll bet you
what you like he carries some proposal. Ah, you don't know everything,
Fritz, my boy?"

It was indeed true that I did not know everything. I made haste to admit
as much. "I didn't even know that the count was gone, much less why he's
gone," said I.

"You see?" exclaimed Anton. And he added, patronizingly, "You should
keep your ears open, my boy; then you might be worth what the king pays
you."

"No less, I trust," said I, "for he pays me nothing." Indeed, at this
time I held no office save the honorary position of chamberlain to
Her Majesty. Any advice the king needed from me was asked and given
unofficially.

Anton went off, persuaded that he had scored a point against me. I could
not see where. It was possible that the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim had
gone to meet his cousi