ill."

I laughed at myself, and forgave Rudolf his trick, though I think that
he might have made my fictitious inamorata something more than a baker's
wife. It would have cost no more to make her a countess, and the doctor
would have looked with more respect on me. However, Rudolf had said that
the baker broke my head with his rolling-pin, and thus the story rests
in the doctor's mind to this day.

"Well, I'm off," said Rudolf.

"But where?"

"Why, to that same little station where two good friends parted from me
once before. Fritz, where's Rupert gone?"

"I wish we knew."

"I lay he won't be far off."

"Are you armed?"

"The six-shooter. Well, yes, since you press me, a knife, too; but only
if he uses one. You'll let Sapt know when you come?"

"Yes; and I come the moment I can stand?"

"As if you need tell me that, old fellow!"

"Where do you go from the station?"

"To Zenda, through the forest," he answered. "I shall reach the station
about nine to-morrow night, Thursday. Unless Rischenheim has got the
audience sooner than was arranged, I shall be in time."

"How will you get hold of Sapt?"

"We must leave something to the minute."

"God bless you, Rudolf."

"The king sha'n't have the letter, Fritz."

There was a moment's silence as we shook hands. Then that soft yet
bright look came in his eyes again. He looked down at me, and caught me
regarding him with a smile that I know was not unkind.

"I never thought I should see her again," he said. "I think I shall now,
Fritz. To have a turn with that boy and to see her again--it's worth
something."

"How will you see her?"

Rudolf laughed, and I laughed too. He caught my hand again. I think that
he was anxious to infect me with his gayety and confidence. But I could
not answer to the appeal of his eyes. There was a motive in him that
found no place in me--a great longing, the prospect or hope of whose
sudden fulfilment dwarfed danger and banished despair. He saw that I
detected its presence in him and perceived how it filled his mind.

"But the letter comes before all," said he. "I expected to die without
seeing her; I will die without seeing her, if I must, to save the
letter."

"I know you will," said I.

He pressed my hand again. As he turned away, James came with his
noiseless, quick step into the room.

"The carriage is at the door, sir," said he.

"Look after the count, James," said Rudolf. "Don't leave him till he
sends you away."