Well, then--"
"They counted on success," I cried, "and Rischenheim takes the
letter!"
"A copy, if I know Rupert of Hentzau. Yes, it was well laid. I
like the men taking all the cabs! How much ahead had they, now."
I did not know that, though I had no more doubt than he that
Rupert's hand was in the business.
"Well," he continued, "I am going to wire to Sapt to put
Rischenheim off for twelve hours if he can; failing that, to get
the king away from Zenda."
"But Rischenheim must have his audience sooner or later," I
objected.
"Sooner or later--there's the world's difference between them!"
cried Rudolf Rassendyll. He sat down on the bed by me, and went
on in quick, decisive words: "You can't move for a day or two.
Send my message to Sapt. Tell him to keep you informed of what
happens. As soon as you can travel, go to Strelsau, and let Sapt
know directly you arrive. We shall want your help."
"And what are you going to do?" I cried, staring at him.
He looked at me for a moment, and his face was crossed by
conflicting feelings. I saw resolve there, obstinacy, and the
scorn of danger; fun, too, and merriment; and, lastly, the same
radiance I spoke of. He had been smoking a cigarette; now he
threw the end of it into the grate and rose from the bed where he
had been sitting.
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