go and ask an
audience of the king."

"But the king is--"

"We shall know that better when you've asked for your audience. See
here."

Rupert sat down by his cousin and instructed him in his task. This was
no other than to discover whether there were a king in Strelsau, or
whether the only king lay dead in the hunting lodge. If there were no
attempt being made to conceal the king's death, Rupert's plan was to
seek safety in flight. He did not abandon his designs: from the secure
vantage of foreign soil he would hold the queen's letter over her head,
and by the threat of publishing it insure at once immunity for himself
and almost any further terms which he chose to exact from her. If, on
the other hand, the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim found a king in Strelsau,
if the royal standards continued to wave at the summit of their flag
staffs, and Strelsau knew nothing of the dead man in the lodge, then
Rupert had laid his hand on another secret; for he knew who the king in
Strelsau must be. Starting from this point, his audacious mind darted
forward to new and bolder schemes. He could offer again to Rudolf
Rassendyll what he had offered once before, three years ago--a
partnership in crime and the profits of crime--or if this advance were
refused, then he declared that he would himself descend openly into the
streets of Strelsau and proclaim the death of the king from the steps of
the cathedral.

"Who can tell," he cried, springing up, enraptured and merry with the
inspiration of his plan, "who can tell whether Sapt or I came first to
the lodge? Who found the king alive, Sapt or I? Who left him dead, Sapt
or I? Who had most interest in killing him--I, who only sought to make
him aware of what touched his honor, or Sapt, who was and is hand and
glove with the man that now robs him of his name and usurps his place
while his body is still warm? Ah, they haven't done with Rupert of
Hentzau yet!"

He stopped, looking down on his companion. Rischenheim's fingers still
twitched nervously and his cheeks were pale. But now his face was alight
with interest and eagerness. Again the fascination of Rupert's audacity
and the infection of his courage caught on his kinsman's weaker nature,
and inspired him to a temporary emulation of the will that dominated
him.

"You see," pursued Rupert, "it's not likely that they'll do you any
harm."

"I'll risk anything."

"Most gallant gentleman! At the worst they'll only keep you a prisoner.