This done, he returned to the room where Rudolf was,
carried a chair into the passage, bade Rudolf lock the door, sat
down, revolver in hand, and himself went to sleep. Young
Bernenstein was in bed just now, taken faint, and the constable
himself was acting as his substitute; that was to be the story,
if a story were needed. Thus the hours from two to six passed
that morning in the castle of Zenda.
At six the constable awoke and knocked at the door; Rudolf
Rassendyll opened it.
"Slept well?" asked Sapt.
"Not a wink," answered Rudolf cheerfully.
"I thought you had more nerve."
"It wasn't want of nerve that kept me awake," said Mr.
Rassendyll.
Sapt, with a pitying shrug, looked round. The curtains of the
window were half-drawn. The table was moved near to the wall,
and the arm-chair by it was well in shadow, being quite close to
the curtains.
"There's plenty of room for you behind," said Rudolf; "And when
Rischenheim is seated in his chair opposite to mine, you can put
your barrel against his head by just stretching out your hand.
And of course I can do the same."
"Yes, it looks well enough," said Sapt, with an approving nod.
"What about the beard?"
"Bernenstein is to tell him you've shaved this morning.
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