by Anthony Hope
CHAPTER V. AN AUDIENCE OF THE KING
Having come thus far in the story that I set out to tell, I have half amind to lay down my pen, and leave untold how from the moment that Mr.Rassendyll came again to Zenda a fury of chance seemed to catch us allin a whirlwind, carrying us whither we would not, and ever driving usonwards to fresh enterprises, breathing into us a recklessness thatstood at no obstacle, and a devotion to the queen and to the man sheloved that swept away all other feeling. The ancients held there to be afate which would have its fill, though women wept and men died, andnone could tell whose was the guilt nor who fell innocent. Thus did theyblindly wrong God's providence. Yet, save that we are taught to believethat all is ruled, we are as blind as they, and are still left wonderingwhy all that is true and generous and love's own fruit must turn sooften to woe and shame, exacting tears and blood. For myself I wouldleave the thing untold, lest a word of it should seem to stain her whomI serve; it is by her own command I write, that all may one day, intime's fullness, be truly known, and those condemn who are without sin,while they pity whose own hearts have fought the equal fight. So muchfor her and him; for us less needs be said. It was not ours to weigh heractions; we served her; him we had served. She was our queen; we boreHeaven a grudge that he was not our king. The worst of what befell wasnot of our own planning, no, nor of our hoping. It came a thunderboltfrom the hand of Rupert, flung carelessly between a curse and alaugh; its coming entangled us more tightly in the net of circumstances.Then there arose in us that strange and overpowering desire of which Imust tell later, filling us with a zeal to accomplish our purpose, andto force Mr. Rassendyll himself into the way we chose. Led by this star,we pressed on through the darkness, until at length the deeper darknessfell that stayed our steps. We also stand for judgment, even as she andhe. So I will write; but I will write plainly and briefly, setting downwhat I must, and no more, yet seeking to give truly the picture of thattime, and to preserve as long as may be the portrait of the man whoselike I have not known. Yet the fear is always upon me that, failing toshow him as he was, I may fail also in gaining an understanding of howhe wrought on us, one and all, till his cause became in all thingsthe right, and to seat him where he should be our highest duty and ournearest wish. For he said little, and that straight to the purpose;no high-flown words of his live in my memory. And he asked nothing forhimself. Yet his speech and his eyes went straight to men's hearts andwomen's, so that they held their lives in an eager attendance on hisbidding. Do I rave? Then Sapt was a raver too, for Sapt was foremost inthe business.
At ten minutes to eight o'clock, young Bernenstein, very admirablyand smartly accoutred, took his stand outside the main entrance ofthe castle. He wore a confident air that became almost a swagger as hestrolled to and fro past the motionless sentries. He had not long towait. On the stroke of eight a gentleman, well-horsed but entirelyunattended, rode up the carriage drive. Bernenstein, crying "Ah, it isthe count!" ran to meet him. Rischenheim dismounted, holding out hishand to the young officer.
"My dear Bernenstein!" said he, for they were acquainted with oneanother.
"You're punctual, my dear Rischenheim, and it's lucky, for the kingawaits you most impatiently."
"I didn't expect to find him up so soon," remarked Rischenheim.
"Up! He's been up these two hours. Indeed we've had the devil of atime of it. Treat him carefully, my dear Count; he's in one of histroublesome humors. For example--but I mustn't keep you waiting. Prayfollow me."
"No, but pray tell me. Otherwise I might say something unfortunate."
"Well, he woke at six; and when the barber came to trim his beard therewere--imagine it, Count!--no less than seven gray hairs." The king fellinto a passion. "Take it off!" he said. "Take it off. I won't havea gray beard! Take it off!' Well what would you? A man is free to beshaved if he chooses, so much more a king. So it's taken off."
"His beard!"
"His beard, my dear Count." Then, after thanking Heaven it was gone,and declaring he looked ten years younger, he cried, "The Countof Luzau-Rischenheim breakfasts with me to-day: what is there forbreakfast?" And he had the chef out his of bed and--"But, by heavens,I shall get into trouble if I stop here chattering. He's waiting mosteagerly for you. Come along." And Bernenstein, passing his arm throughthe count's, walked him rapidly into the castle.
The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim was a young man; he was no more versedin affairs of this kind than Bernenstein, and it cannot be said that heshowed so much aptitude for them. He was decidedly pale this morning;his manner was uneasy, and his hands trembled. He did not lack courage,but that rarer virtue, coolness; and the importance--or perhaps theshame--of his mission upset the balance of his nerves. Hardly notingwhere he went, he allowed Bernenstein to lead him quickly and directlytowards the room where Rudolf Rassendyll was, not doubting that he wasbeing conducted to the king's presence.
"Breakfast is ordered for nine," said Bernenstein, "but he wants to seeyou before. He has something important to say; and you perhaps have thesame?"
"I? Oh, no. A small matter; but--er--of a private nature."
"Quite so, quite so. Oh, I don't ask any questions, my dear Count."
"Shall I find the king alone?" asked Rischenheim nervously.
"I don't think you'll find anybody with him; no, nobody, I think,"answered Bernenstein, with a grave and reassuring air.
They arrived now at the door. Here Bernenstein paused.
"I am ordered to wait outside till his Majesty summons me," he said ina low voice, as though he feared that the irritable king would hear him."I'll open the door and announce you. Pray keep him in a good temper,for all our sakes." And he flung the door open, saying, "Sire, the Countof Luzau-Rischenheim has the honor to wait on your Majesty." With thishe shut the door promptly, and stood against it. Nor did he move, saveonce, and then only to take out his revolver and carefully inspect it.
The count advanced, bowing low, and striving to conceal a visibleagitation. He saw the king in his arm-chair; the king wore a suit ofbrown tweeds (none the better for being crushed into a bundle the nightbefore); his face was in deep shadow, but Rischenheim perceived that thebeard was indeed gone. The king held out his hand to Rischenheim, andmotioned him to sit in a chair just opposite to him and within a foot ofthe window-curtains.
"I'm delighted to see you, my lord," said the king.
Rischenheim looked up. Rudolf's voice had once been so like the king'sthat no man could tell the difference, but in the last year or two theking's had grown weaker, and Rischenheim seemed to be struck by thevigor of the tones in which he was addressed. As he looked up, there wasa slight movement in the curtains by him; it died away when the countgave no further signs of suspicion, but Rudolf had noticed his surprise:the voice, when it next spoke, was subdued.
"Most delighted," pursued Mr. Rassendyll. "For I am pestered beyondendurance about those dogs. I can't get the coats right, I've triedeverything, but they won't come as I wish. Now, yours are magnificent."
"You are very good, sire. But I ventured to ask an audience in orderto--"
"Positively you must tell me about the dogs. And before Sapt comes, forI want nobody to hear but myself."
"Your Majesty expects Colonel Sapt?"
"In about twenty minutes," said the king, with a glance at the clock onthe mantelpiece.
At this Rischenheim became all on fire to get his errand done beforeSapt appeared.
"The coats of your dogs," pursued the king, "grow so beautifully--"
"A thousand pardons, sire, but--"
"Long and silky, that I despair of--"
"I have a most urgent and important matter," persisted Rischenheim inagony.
Rudolf threw himself back in his chair with a peevish air. "Well, if youmust, you must. What is this great affair, Count? Let us have it over,and then you can tell me about the dogs."
Rischenheim looked round the room. There was nobody; the curtains werestill; the king's left hand caressed his beardless chin; the right washidden f
rom his visitor by the small table that stood between them.
"Sire, my cousin, the Count of Hentzau, has entrusted me with amessage."
Rudolf suddenly assumed a stern air.
"I can hold no communication, directly or indirectly, with the Count ofHentzau," said he.
"Pardon me, sire, pardon me. A document has come into the count's handswhich is of vital importance to your Majesty."
"The Count of Hentzau, my lord, has incurred my heaviest displeasure."
"Sire, it is in the hopes of atoning for his offences that he has sentme here to-day. There is a conspiracy against your Majesty's honor."
"By whom, my lord?" asked Rudolf, in cold and doubting tones.
"By those who are very near your Majesty's person and very high in yourMajesty's love."
"Name them."
"Sire, I dare not. You would not believe me. But your Majesty willbelieve written evidence."
"Show it me, and quickly. We may be interrupted."
"Sire, I have a copy--"
"Oh, a copy, my lord?" sneered Rudolf.
"My cousin has the original, and will forward it at your Majesty'scommand. A copy of a letter of her Majesty's--"
"Of the queen's?"
"Yes, sire. It is addressed to--" Rischenheim paused.
"Well, my lord, to whom?"
"To a Mr. Rudolf Rassendyll."
Now Rudolf played his part well. He did not feign indifference, butallowed his voice to tremble with emotion as he stretched out his handand said in a hoarse whisper, "Give it me, give it me."
Rischenheim's eyes sparkled. His shot had told: the king's attention washis; the coats of the dogs were forgotten. Plainly he had stirred thesuspicions and jealousy of the king.
"My cousin," he continued, "conceives it his duty to lay the letterbefore your Majesty. He obtained it--"
"A curse on how he got it! Give it me!"
Rischenheim unbuttoned his coat, then his waistcoat. The head of arevolver showed in a belt round his waist. He undid the flap of a pocketin the lining of his waistcoat, and he began to draw out a sheet ofpaper.
But Rudolf, great as his powers of self-control were, was but human.When he saw the paper, he leant forward, half rising from his chair. Asa result, his face came beyond the shadow of the curtain, and the fullmorning light beat on it. As Rischenheim took the paper out, helooked up. He saw the face that glared so eagerly at him; his eyes metRassendyll's: a sudden suspicion seized him, for the face, though theking's face in every feature, bore a stern resolution and witnessed avigor that were not the king's. In that instant the truth, or a hint ofit, flashed across his mind. He gave a half-articulate cry; in one handhe crumpled up the paper, the other flew to his revolver. But he wastoo late. Rudolf's left hand encircled his hand and the paper in an irongrip; Rudolf's revolver was on his temple; and an arm was stretched outfrom behind the curtain, holding another barrel full before his eyes,while a dry voice said, "You'd best take it quietly." Then Sapt steppedout.
Rischenheim had no words to meet the sudden transformation of theinterview. He seemed to be able to do nothing but stare at RudolfRassendyll. Sapt wasted no time. He snatched the count's revolver andstowed it in his own pocket.
"Now take the paper," said he to Rudolf, and his barrel held Rischenheimmotionless while Rudolf wrenched the precious document from his fingers."Look if it's the right one. No, don't read it through; just look. Is itright? That's good. Now put your revolver to his head again. I'm goingto search him. Stand up, sir."
They compelled the count to stand up, and Sapt subjected him to a searchthat made the concealment of another copy, or of any other document,impossible. Then they let him sit down again. His eyes seemed fascinatedby Rudolf Rassendyll.
"Yet you've seen me before, I think," smiled Rudolf. "I seem to rememberyou as a boy in Strelsau when I was there. Now tell us, sir, wheredid you leave this cousin of yours?" For the plan was to find out fromRischenheim where Rupert was, and to set off in pursuit of Rupert assoon as they had disposed of Rischenheim.
But even as Rudolf spoke there was a violent knock at the door. Rudolfsprang to open it. Sapt and his revolver kept their places. Bernensteinwas on the threshold, open-mouthed.
"The king's servant has just gone by. He's looking for Colonel Sapt.The King has been walking in the drive, and learnt from a sentry ofRischenheim's arrival. I told the man that you had taken the count for astroll round the castle, and I did not know where you were. He says thatthe king may come himself at any moment."
Sapt considered for one short instant; then he was back by theprisoner's side.
"We must talk again later on," he said, in low quick tones. "Now you'regoing to breakfast with the king. I shall be there, and Bernenstein.Remember, not a word of your errand, not a word of this gentleman! Ata word, a sign, a hint, a gesture, a motion, as God lives, I'll put abullet through your head, and a thousand kings sha'n't stop me. Rudolf,get behind the curtain. If there's an alarm you must jump through thewindow into the moat and swim for it."
"All right," said Rudolf Rassendyll. "I can read my letter there."
"Burn it, you fool."
"When I've read it I'll eat it, if you like, but not before."
Bernenstein looked in again. "Quick, quick! The man will be back," hewhispered.
"Bernenstein, did you hear what I said to the count?"
"Yes, I heard."
"Then you know your part. Now, gentlemen, to the king."
"Well," said an angry voice outside, "I wondered how long I was to bekept waiting."
Rudolf Rassendyll skipped behind the curtain. Sapt's revolver slippedinto a handy pocket. Rischenheim stood with arms dangling by his sideand his waistcoat half unbuttoned. Young Bernenstein was bowing low onthe threshold, and protesting that the king's servant had but just gone,and that they were on the point of waiting on his Majesty. Then the kingwalked in, pale and full-bearded.
"Ah, Count," said he, "I'm glad to see you. If they had told me youwere here, you shouldn't have waited a minute. You're very dark in here,Sapt. Why don't you draw back the curtains?" and the king moved towardsthe curtain behind which Rudolf was.
"Allow me, sire," cried Sapt, darting past him and laying a hand on thecurtain.
A malicious gleam of pleasure shot into Rischenheim's eyes. "In truth,sire," continued the constable, his hand on the curtain, "we were sointerested in what the count was saying about his dogs--"
"By heaven, I forgot!" cried the king. "Yes, yes, the dogs. Now tell me,Count--"
"Your pardon, sire," put in young Bernenstein, "but breakfast waits."
"Yes, yes. Well, then, we'll have them together--breakfast and thedogs. Come along, Count." The king passed his arm through Rischenheim's,adding to Bernenstein, "Lead the way, Lieutenant; and you, Colonel, comewith us."
They went out. Sapt stopped and locked the door behind him. "Why do youlock the door, Colonel?" asked the king.
"There are some papers in my drawer there, sire."
"But why not lock the drawer?
"I have lost the key, sire, like the fool I am," said the colonel.
The Count of Luzau-Rischenheim did not make a very good breakfast. Hesat opposite to the king. Colonel Sapt placed himself at the back of theking's chair, and Rischenheim saw the muzzle of a revolver resting onthe top of the chair just behind his Majesty's right ear. Bernensteinstood in soldierly rigidity by the door; Rischenheim looked round at himonce and met a most significant gaze.
"You're eating nothing," said the king. "I hope you're not indisposed?"
"I am a little upset, sire," stammered Rischenheim, and truly enough.
"Well, tell me about the dogs--while I eat, for I'm hungry."
Rischenheim began to disclose his secret. His statement was decidedlywanting in clearness. The king grew impatient.
"I don't understand," said he testily, and he pushed his chair back soquickly that Sapt skipped away, and hid the revolver behind his back.
"Sire--" cried Rischenheim, half ri
sing. A cough from Lieutenant vonBernenstein interrupted him.
"Tell it me all over again," said the king. Rischenheim did as he wasbid.
"Ah, I understand a little better now. Do you see, Sapt?" and he turnedhis head round towards the constable. Sapt had just time to whisk therevolver away. The count lent forward towards the king. Lieutenant vonBernenstein coughed. The count sank back again.
"Perfectly, sire," said Colonel Sapt. "I understand all the count wishesto convey to your Majesty."
"Well, I understand about half," said the king with a laugh. "Butperhaps that'll be enough."
"I think quite enough, sire," answered Sapt with a smile. The importantmatter of the dogs being thus disposed of, the king recollected that thecount had asked for an audience on a matter of business.
"Now, what did you wish to say to me?" he asked, with a weary air. Thedogs had been more interesting.
Rischenheim looked at Sapt. The revolver was in its place; Bernensteincoughed again. Yet he saw a chance.
"Your pardon, sire," said he, "but we are not alone."
The king lifted his eyebrows.
"Is the business so private?" he asked.
"I should prefer to tell it to your Majesty alone," pleaded the count.
Now Sapt was resolved not to leave Rischenheim alone with the king, for,although the count, being robbed of his evidence could do little harmconcerning the letter, he would doubtless tell the king that RudolfRassendyll was in the castle. He leant now over the king's shoulder, andsaid with a sneer:
"Messages from Rupert of Hentzau are too exalted matters for my poorears, it seems."
The king flushed red.
"Is that your business, my lord?" he asked Rischenheim sternly.
"Your Majesty does not know what my cousin--"
"It is the old plea?" interrupted the king. "He wants to come back? Isthat all, or is there anything else?"
A moment's silence followed the king's words. Sapt looked full atRischenheim, and smiled as he slightly raised his right hand and showedthe revolver. Bernenstein coughed twice. Rischenheim sat twisting hisfingers. He understood that, cost what it might, they would not let himdeclare his errand to the king or betray Mr. Rassendyll's presence. Hecleared his throat and opened his mouth as if to speak, but still heremained silent.
"Well, my lord, is it the old story or something new," asked the kingimpatiently.
Again Rischenheim sat silent.
"Are you dumb, my lord?" cried the king most impatiently.
"It--it is only what you call the old story, sire."
"Then let me say that you have treated me very badly in obtainingan audience of me for any such purpose," said the king. "You knew mydecision, and your cousin knows it." Thus speaking, the king rose;Sapt's revolver slid into his pocket; but Lieutenant von Bernensteindrew his sword and stood at the salute; he also coughed.
"My dear Rischenheim," pursued the king more kindly, "I can allow foryour natural affection. But, believe me, in this case it misleads you.Do me the favor not to open this subject again to me."
Rischenheim, humiliated and angry, could do nothing but bow inacknowledgment of the king's rebuke.
"Colonel Sapt, see that the count is well entertained. My horse shouldbe at the door by now. Farewell, Count. Bernenstein, give me your arm."
Bernenstein shot a rapid glance at the constable. Sapt noddedreassuringly. Bernenstein sheathed his sword and gave his arm to theking. They passed through the door, and Bernenstein closed it with abackward push of his hand. But at this moment Rischenheim, goaded tofury and desperate at the trick played on him--seeing, moreover, thathe had now only one man to deal with--made a sudden rush at the door.He reached it, and his hand was on the door-knob. But Sapt was upon him,and Sapt's revolver was at his ear.
In the passage the king stopped.
"What are they doing in there?" he asked, hearing the noise of the quickmovements.
"I don't know, sire," said Bernenstein, and he took a step forward.
"No, stop a minute, Lieutenant; you're pulling me along!"
"A thousand pardons, sire."
"I hear nothing more now." And there was nothing to hear, for the twonow stood dead silent inside the door.
"Nor I, sire. Will your Majesty go on?" And Bernenstein took anotherstep.
"You're determined I shall," said the king with a laugh, and he let theyoung officer lead him away.
Inside the room, Rischenheim stood with his back against the door.He was panting for breath, and his face was flushed and working withexcitement. Opposite to him stood Sapt, revolver in hand.
"Till you get to heaven, my lord," said the constable, "you'll never benearer to it than you were in that moment. If you had opened the door,I'd have shot you through the head."
As he spoke there came a knock at the door.
"Open it," he said brusquely to Rischenheim. With a muttered curse thecount obeyed him. A servant stood outside with a telegram on a salver.
"Take it," whispered Sapt, and Rischenheim put out his hand.
"Your pardon, my lord, but this has arrived for you," said the manrespectfully.
"Take it," whispered Sapt again.
"Give it me," muttered Rischenheim confusedly; and he took the envelope.
The servant bowed and shut the door.
"Open it," commanded Sapt.
"God's curse on you!" cried Rischenheim in a voice that choked withpassion.
"Eh? Oh, you can have no secrets from so good a friend as I am, my lord.Be quick and open it."
The count began to open it.
"If you tear it up, or crumple it, I'll shoot you," said Sapt quietly."You know you can trust my word. Now read it."
"By God, I won't read it."
"Read it, I tell you, or say your prayers."
The muzzle was within a foot of his head. He unfolded the telegram. Thenhe looked at Sapt. "Read," said the constable.
"I don't understand what it means," grumbled Rischenheim.
"Possibly I may be able to help you."
"It's nothing but--"
"Read, my lord, read!"
Then he read, and this was the telegram: "Holf, 19 Konigstrasse."
"A thousand thanks, my lord. And--the place it's despatched from?"
"Strelsau."
"Just turn it so that I can see. Oh, I don't doubt you, but seeing isbelieving. Ah, thanks. It's as you say. You're puzzled what it means,Count?"
"I don't know at all what it means!"
"How strange! Because I can guess so well."
"You are very acute, sir."
"It seems to me a simple thing to guess, my lord."
"And pray," said Rischenheim, endeavoring to assume an easy andsarcastic air, "what does your wisdom tell you that the message means?"
"I think, my lord, that the message is an address."
"An address! I never thought of that. But I know no Holf."
"I don't think it's Holf's address."
"Whose, then?" asked Rischenheim, biting his nail, and looking furtivelyat the constable.
"Why," said Sapt, "the present address of Count Rupert of Hentzau."
As he spoke, he fixed his eyes on the eyes of Rischenheim. He gave ashort, sharp laugh, then put his revolver in his pocket and bowed to thecount.
"In truth, you are very convenient, my dear Count," said he.
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