Opening the door, he found himself in
the passage. But here he ran right into the arms of young
Bernenstein, the officer of the guard, who was going his rounds.
Sapt knew and trusted him, for he had been with us all through
the siege of Zenda, when Michael kept the king a prisoner, and he
bore marks given him by Rupert of Hentzau's ruffians. He now held
a commission as lieutenant in the cuirassiers of the King's
Guard.
He noticed Sapt's bearing, for he cried out in a low voice,
"Anything wrong, sir?"
"Bernenstein, my boy, the castle's all right about here. Go round
to the front, and, hang you, stay there," said Sapt.
The officer stared, as well he might. Sapt caught him by the arm.
"No, stay here. See, stand by the door there that leads to the
royal apartments. Stand there, and let nobody pass. You
understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"And whatever you hear, don't look round."
Bernenstein's bewilderment grew greater; but Sapt was constable,
and on Sapt's shoulders lay the responsibility for the safety of
Zenda and all in it.
"Very well, sir," he said, with a submissive shrug, and he drew
his sword and stood by the door; he could obey, although he could
not understand.
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