n; then he caught my eye, and beckoned me to come to
him. I approached him, but for several moments he did not speak. Again
he motioned to me, and, resting my hand on the arm of his chair, I bent
my head close down to his. He glanced again at the queen, seeming afraid
that she would hear what he wished to say.

"Fritz," he whispered at last, "as soon as it's fairly dark I must get
away. Bernenstein will come with me. You must stay here."

"Where can you go?"

"To the lodge. I must meet Sapt and arrange matters with him."

I did not understand what plan he had in his head, or what scheme he
could contrive. But at the moment my mind was not directed to such
matters; it was set on the sight before my eyes.

"And the queen?" I whispered in answer to him.

Low as my voice was, she heard it. She turned to us with a sudden,
startled movement, still holding Helga's hand. Her eyes searched our
faces, and she knew in an instant of what we had been speaking. A little
longer still she stood, gazing at us. Then she suddenly sprang forward
and threw herself on her knees before Rudolf, her hands uplifted and
resting on his shoulders. She forgot our presence, and everything in the
world, save her great dread of losing him again.

"Not again, Rudolf, my darling! Not again! Rudolf, I can't bear it
again."

Then she dropped her head on his knees and sobbed.

He raised his hand and gently stroked the gleaming hair. But he did not
look at her. He gazed out at the garden, which grew dark and dreary
in the gathering gloom. His lips were tight set and his face pale and
drawn.

I watched him for a moment, then I drew my wife away, and we sat down at
a table some way off. From outside still came the cheers and tumult of
the joyful, excited crowd. Within there was no sound but the queen's
stifled sobbing. Rudolf caressed her shining hair and gazed into the
night with sad, set eyes. She raised her head and looked into his face.

"You'll break my heart," she said.

CHAPTER XIX. FOR OUR LOVE AND HER HONOR

RUPERT of Hentzau was dead! That was the thought which, among all our
perplexities, came back to me, carrying with it a wonderful relief.
To those who have not learnt in fighting against him the height of his
audacity and the reach of his designs, it may well seem incredible that
his death should breed comfort at a moment when the future was still
so dark and uncertain. Yet to me it was so great a thing that I could
hardly brin