Rupert of Hentzau: From The Memoirs of Fritz Von Tarlenheim Page 6

  CHAPTER VI. THE TASK OF THE QUEEN'S SERVANTS

  THE doctor who attended me at Wintenberg was not only discreet, but alsoindulgent; perhaps he had the sense to see that little benefit wouldcome to a sick man from fretting in helplessness on his back, when hewas on fire to be afoot. I fear he thought the baker's rolling-pin wasin my mind, but at any rate I extorted a consent from him, and was onmy way home from Wintenberg not much more than twelve hours after RudolfRassendyll left me. Thus I arrived at my own house in Strelsau on thesame Friday morning that witnessed the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim'stwo-fold interview with the king at the Castle of Zenda. The moment Ihad arrived, I sent James, whose assistance had been, and continuedto be, in all respects most valuable, to despatch a message to theconstable, acquainting him with my whereabouts, and putting myselfentirely at his disposal. Sapt received this message while a council ofwar was being held, and the information it gave aided not a little inthe arrangements that the constable and Rudolf Rassendyll made. Whatthese were I must now relate, although, I fear, at the risk of sometediousness.

  Yet that council of war in Zenda was held under no common circumstances.Cowed as Rischenheim appeared, they dared not let him out of theirsight. Rudolf could not leave the room into which Sapt had locked him;the king's absence was to be short, and before he came again Rudolf mustbe gone, Rischenheim safely disposed of, and measures taken against theoriginal letter reaching the hands for which the intercepted copy hadbeen destined. The room was a large one. In the corner farthest fromthe door sat Rischenheim, disarmed, dispirited, to all seeming ready tothrow up his dangerous game and acquiesce in any terms presented to him.Just inside the door, guarding it, if need should be, with their lives,were the other three, Bernenstein merry and triumphant, Sapt blunt andcool, Rudolf calm and clear-headed. The queen awaited the result oftheir deliberations in her apartments, ready to act as they directed,but determined to see Rudolf before he left the castle. They conversedtogether in low tones. Presently Sapt took paper and wrote. This firstmessage was to me, and it bade me come to Zenda that afternoon; anotherhead and another pair of hands were sadly needed. Then followed moredeliberation; Rudolf took up the talking now, for his was the bold planon which they consulted. Sapt twirled his moustache, smiling doubtfully.

  "Yes, yes," murmured young Bernenstein, his eyes alight with excitement.

  "It's dangerous, but the best thing," said Rudolf, carefully sinkinghis voice yet lower, lest the prisoner should catch the lightest wordof what he said. "It involves my staying here till the evening. Is thatpossible?"

  "No; but you can leave here and hide in the forest till I join you,"said Sapt.

  "Till we join you," corrected Bernenstein eagerly.

  "No," said the constable, "you must look after our friend here. Come,Lieutenant, it's all in the queen's service."

  "Besides," added Rudolf with a smile, "neither the colonel nor I wouldlet you have a chance at Rupert. He's our game, isn't he, Sapt?"

  The colonel nodded. Rudolf in his turn took paper, and here is themessage that he wrote:

  "Holf, 19, Konigstrasse, Strelsau.--All well. He has what I had, butwishes to see what you have. He and I will be at the hunting-lodgeat ten this evening. Bring it and meet us. The business isunsuspected.--R."

  Rudolf threw the paper across to Sapt; Bernenstein leant over theconstable's shoulder and read it eagerly.

  "I doubt if it would bring me," grinned old Sapt, throwing the paperdown.

  "It'll bring Rupert to Hentzau. Why not? He'll know that the king willwish to meet him unknown to the queen, and also unknown to you, Sapt,since you were my friend: what place more likely for the king to choosethan his hunting-lodge, where he is accustomed to go when he wishes tobe alone? The message will bring him, depend on it. Why, man, Rupertwould come even if he suspected; and why should he suspect?"

  "They may have a cipher, he and Rischenheim," objected Sapt.

  "No, or Rupert would have sent the address in it," retorted Rudolfquickly.

  "Then--when he comes?" asked Bernenstein.

  "He finds such a king as Rischenheim found, and Sapt, here, at hiselbow."

  "But he'll know you," objected Bernenstein.

  "Ay, I think he'll know me," said Rudolf with a smile. "Meanwhile wesend for Fritz to come here and look after the king."

  "And Rischenheim?"

  "That's your share, Lieutenant. Sapt, is any one at Tarlenheim?"

  "No. Count Stanislas has put it at Fritz's disposal."

  "Good; then Fritz's two friends, the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim andLieutenant von Bernenstein, will ride over there to-day. The constableof Zenda will give the lieutenant twenty-four hours' leave of absence,and the two gentlemen will pass the day and sleep at the chateau. Theywill pass the day side by side, Bernenstein, not losing sight of oneanother for an instant, and they will pass the night in the same room.And one of them will not close his eyes nor take his hand off the buttof his revolver."

  "Very good, sir," said young Bernenstein.

  "If he tries to escape or give any alarm, shoot him through the head,ride to the frontier, get to safe hiding, and, if you can, let us know."

  "Yes," said Bernenstein simply. Sapt had chosen well, and the youngofficer made nothing of the peril and ruin that her Majesty's servicemight ask of him.

  A restless movement and a weary sigh from Rischenheim attracted theirattention. He had strained his ears to listen till his head ached, butthe talkers had been careful, and he had heard nothing that threw lighton their deliberations. He had now given up his vain attempt, and sat inlistless inattention, sunk in an apathy.

  "I don't think he'll give you much trouble," whispered Sapt toBernenstein, with a jerk of his thumb towards the captive.

  "Act as if he were likely to give you much," urged Rudolf, laying hishand on the lieutenant's arm.

  "Yes, that's a wise man's advice," nodded the constable approvingly. "Wewere well governed, Lieutenant, when this Rudolf was king."

  "Wasn't I also his loyal subject?" asked young Bernenstein.

  "Yes, wounded in my service," added Rudolf; for he remembered howthe boy--he was little more then--had been fired upon in the park ofTarlenheim, being taken for Mr. Rassendyll himself.

  Thus their plans were laid. If they could defeat Rupert, they would haveRischenheim at their mercy. If they could keep Rischenheim out of theway while they used his name in their trick, they had a strong chance ofdeluding and killing Rupert. Yes, of killing him; for that and nothingless was their purpose, as the constable of Zenda himself has told me.

  "We would have stood on no ceremony," he said. "The queen's honor was atstake, and the fellow himself an assassin."

  Bernenstein rose and went out. He was gone about half an hour, beingemployed in despatching the telegrams to Strelsau. Rudolf and Sapt usedthe interval to explain to Rischenheim what they proposed to do withhim. They asked no pledge, and he offered none. He heard what theysaid with a dulled uninterested air. When asked if he would go withoutresistance, he laughed a bitter laugh. "How can I resist?" he asked. "Ishould have a bullet through my head."

  "Why, without doubt," said Colonel Sapt. "My lord, you are verysensible."

  "Let me advise you, my lord," said Rudolf, looking down on him kindlyenough, "if you come safe through this affair, to add honor to yourprudence, and chivalry to your honor. There is still time for you tobecome a gentleman."

  He turned away, followed by a glance of anger from the count and agrating chuckle from old Sapt.

  A few moments later Bernenstein returned. His errand was done, andhorses for himself and Rischenheim were at the gate of the castle. Aftera few final words and clasp of the hand from Rudolf, the lieutenantmotioned to his prisoner to accompany him, and they two walked outtogether, being to all appearance willing companions and in perfectfriendliness with one another. The queen herself watched them go fromthe windows of her apartment, and noticed that Bernenstein rode half apace behind, and that his free hand rested on the revolver by his side.


  It was now well on in the morning, and the risk of Rudolf's sojourn inthe castle grew greater with every moment. Yet he was resolved tosee the queen before he went. This interview presented no greatdifficulties, since her Majesty was in the habit of coming to theconstable's room to take his advice or to consult with him. The hardesttask was to contrive afterwards a free and unnoticed escape for Mr.Rassendyll. To meet this necessity, the constable issued orders thatthe company of guards which garrisoned the castle should parade atone o'clock in the park, and that the servants should all, after theirdinner, be granted permission to watch the manoeuvres. By this means hecounted on drawing off any curious eyes and allowing Rudolf to reach theforest unobserved. They appointed a rendezvous in a handy and shelteredspot; the one thing which they were compelled to trust to fortune wasRudolf's success in evading chance encounters while he waited. Mr.Rassendyll himself was confident of his ability to conceal his presence,or, if need were, so to hide his face that no strange tale of the kingbeing seen wandering, alone and beardless, should reach the ears of thecastle or the town.

  While Sapt was making his arrangements, Queen Flavia came to the roomwhere Rudolf Rassendyll was. It was then nearing twelve, and youngBernenstein had been gone half an hour. Sapt attended her to the door,set a sentry at the end of the passage with orders that her Majestyshould on no pretence be disturbed, promised her very audibly to returnas soon as he possibly could, and respectfully closed the door aftershe had entered. The constable was well aware of the value in a secretbusiness of doing openly all that can safely be done with openness.

  All of what passed at that interview I do not know, but a part QueenFlavia herself told to me, or rather to Helga, my wife; for although itwas meant to reach my ear, yet to me, a man, she would not disclose itdirectly. First she learnt from Mr. Rassendyll the plans that had beenmade, and, although she trembled at the danger that he must run inmeeting Rupert of Hentzau, she had such love of him and such a trust inhis powers that she seemed to doubt little of his success. But she beganto reproach herself for having brought him into this peril by writingher letter. At this he took from his pocket the copy that Rischenheimhad carried. He had found time to read it, and now before her eyes hekissed it.

  "Had I as many lives as there are words, my queen," he said softly, "foreach word I would gladly give a life."

  "Ah, Rudolf, but you've only one life, and that more mine than yours.Did you think we should ever meet again?"

  "I didn't know," said he; and now they were standing opposite oneanother.

  "But I knew," she said, her eyes shining brightly; "I knew always thatwe should meet once more. Not how, nor where, but just that we should.So I lived, Rudolf."

  "God bless you!" he said.

  "Yes, I lived through it all."

  He pressed her hand, knowing what that phrase meant and must mean forher.

  "Will it last forever?" she asked, suddenly gripping his hand tightly.But a moment later she went on: "No, no, I mustn't make you unhappy,Rudolf. I'm half glad I wrote the letter, and half glad they stoleit. It's so sweet to have you fighting for me, for me only this time,Rudolf--not for the king, for me!"

  "Sweet indeed, my dearest lady. Don't be afraid: we shall win."

  "You will win, yes. And then you'll go?" And, dropping his hand, shecovered her face with hers.

  "I mustn't kiss your face," said he, "but your hands I may kiss," and hekissed her hands as they were pressed against her face.

  "You wear my ring," she murmured through her fingers, "always?"

  "Why, yes," he said, with a little laugh of wonder at her question.

  "And there is--no one else?"

  "My queen!" said he, laughing again.

  "No, I knew really, Rudolf, I knew really," and now her hands flew outtowards him, imploring his pardon. Then she began to speak quickly:"Rudolf, last night I had a dream about you, a strange dream. I seemedto be in Strelsau, and all the people were talking about the king. Itwas you they meant; you were the king. At last you were the king, and Iwas your queen. But I could see you only very dimly; you were somewhere,but I could not make out where; just sometimes your face came. Then Itried to tell you that you were king--yes, and Colonel Sapt and Fritztried to tell you; the people, too, called out that you were king. Whatdid it mean? But your face, when I saw it, was unmoved, and very pale,and you seemed not to hear what we said, not even what I said. It almostseemed as if you were dead, and yet king. Ah, you mustn't die, even tobe king," and she laid a hand on his shoulder.

  "Sweetheart," said he gently, "in dreams desires and fears blend instrange visions, so I seemed to you to be both a king and a dead man;but I'm not a king, and I am a very healthy fellow. Yet a thousandthanks to my dearest queen for dreaming of me."

  "No, but what could it mean?" she asked again.

  "What does it mean when I dream always of you, except that I always loveyou?"

  "Was it only that?" she said, still unconvinced.

  What more passed between them I do not know. I think that the queen toldmy wife more, but women will sometimes keep women's secrets even fromtheir husbands; though they love us, yet we are always in some sort thecommon enemy, against whom they join hands. Well, I would not look toofar into such secrets, for to know must be, I suppose, to blame, and whois himself so blameless that in such a case he would be free with hiscensures?

  Yet much cannot have passed, for almost close on their talk about thedream came Colonel Sapt, saying that the guards were in line, and allthe women streamed out to watch them, while the men followed, lest thegay uniforms should make them forgotten. Certainly a quiet fell overthe old castle, that only the constable's curt tones broke, as he badeRudolf come by the back way to the stables and mount his horse.

  "There's no time to lose," said Sapt, and his eye seemed to grudge thequeen even one more word with the man she loved.

  But Rudolf was not to be hurried into leaving her in such a fashion. Heclapped the constable on the shoulder, laughing, and bidding him thinkof what he would for a moment; then he went again to the queen and wouldhave knelt before her, but that she would not suffer, and they stoodwith hands locked. Then suddenly she drew him to her and kissed hisforehead, saying: "God go with you, Rudolf my knight."

  Thus she turned away, letting him go. He walked towards the door; but asound arrested his steps, and he waited in the middle of the room, hiseyes on the door. Old Sapt flew to the threshold, his sword half-way outof its sheath. There was a step coming down the passage, and the feetstopped outside the door.

  "Is it the king?" whispered Rudolf.

  "I don't know," said Sapt.

  "No, it's not the king," came in unhesitating certainty from QueenFlavia.

  They waited: a low knock sounded on the door. Still for a moment theywaited. The knock was repeated urgently.

  "We must open," said Sapt. "Behind the curtain with you, Rudolf."

  The queen sat down, and Sapt piled a heap of papers before her, that itmight seem as though he and she transacted business. But his precautionswere interrupted by a hoarse, eager, low cry from outside, "Quick! inGod's name, quick!"

  They knew the voice for Bernenstein's. The queen sprang up, Rudolf cameout, Sapt turned the key. The lieutenant entered, hurried, breathless,pale.

  "Well?" asked Sapt.

  "He has got away?" cried Rudolf, guessing in a moment the misfortunethat had brought Bernenstein back.

  "Yes, he's got away. Just as we left the town and reached the open roadtowards Tarlenheim, he said, 'Are we going to walk all the way? I wasnot loath to go quicker, and we broke into a trot. But I--ah, what apestilent fool I am!"

  "Never mind that--go on."

  "Why, I was thinking of him and my task, and having a bullet ready forhim, and--"

  "Of everything except your horse?" guessed Sapt, with a grim smile.

  "Yes; and the horse pecked and stumbled, and I fell forward on his neck.I put out my arm to recover myself, and--I jerked my revolver on to theground."

  "And he
saw?"

  "He saw, curse him. For a second he waited; then he smiled, and turned,and dug his spurs in and was off, straight across country towardsStrelsau. Well, I was off my horse in a moment, and I fired three timesafter him."

  "You hit?" asked Rudolf.

  "I think so. He shifted the reins from one hand to the other and wrunghis arm. I mounted and made after him, but his horse was better thanmine and he gained ground. We began to meet people, too, and I didn'tdare to fire again. So I left him and rode here to tell you. Neveremploy me again, Constable, so long as you live," and the young man'sface was twisted with misery and shame, as, forgetting the queen'spresence, he sank despondently into a chair.

  Sapt took no notice of his self-reproaches. But Rudolf went and laid ahand on his shoulder.

  "It was an accident," he said. "No blame to you."

  The queen rose and walked towards him; Bernenstein sprang to his feet.

  "Sir," said she, "it is not success but effort that should gain thanks,"and she held out her hand.

  Well, he was young; I do not laugh at the sob that escaped his lips ashe turned his head.

  "Let me try something else!" he implored.

  "Mr. Rassendyll," said the queen, "you'll do my pleasure by employingthis gentleman in my further service. I am already deep in his debt, andwould be deeper." There was a moment's silence.

  "Well, but what's to be done?" asked Colonel Sapt. "He's gone toStrelsau."

  "He'll stop Rupert," mused Mr. Rassendyll. "He may or he mayn't."

  "It's odds that he will."

  "We must provide for both."

  Sapt and Rudolf looked at one another.

  "You must be here!" asked Rudolf of the constable. "Well, I'll go toStrelsau." His smile broke out. "That is, if Bernenstein'll lend me ahat."

  The queen made no sound; but she came and laid her hand on his arm. Helooked at her, smiling still.

  "Yes, I'll go to Strelsau," said he, "and I'll find Rupert, ay, andRischenheim too, if they're in the city."

  "Take me with you," cried Bernenstein eagerly.

  Rudolf glanced at Sapt. The constable shook his head. Bernenstein's facefell.

  "It's not that, boy," said old Sapt, half in kindness, half inimpatience. "We want you here. Suppose Rupert comes here withRischenheim!"

  The idea was new, but the event was by no means unlikely.

  "But you'll be here, Constable," urged Bernenstein, "and Fritz vonTarlenheim will arrive in an hour."

  "Ay, young man," said Sapt, nodding his head; "but when I fight Rupertof Hentzau, I like to have a man to spare," and he grinned broadly, beingno whit afraid of what Bernenstein might think of his courage. "Now goand get him a hat," he added, and the lieutenant ran off on the errand.

  But the queen cried:

  "Are you sending Rudolf alone, then--alone against two?"

  "Yes, madam, if I may command the campaign," said Sapt. "I take it heshould be equal to the task."

  He could not know the feelings of the queen's heart. She dashed her handacross her eyes, and turned in mute entreaty to Rudolf Rassendyll.

  "I must go," he said softly. "We can't spare Bernenstein, and I mustn'tstay here."

  She said no more. Rudolf walked across to Sapt.

  "Take me to the stables. Is the horse good? I daren't take the train.Ah, here's the lieutenant and the hat."

  "The horse'll get you there to-night," said Sapt. "Come along.Bernenstein, stay with the queen."

  At the threshold Rudolf paused, and, turning his head, glanced onceat Queen Flavia, who stood still as a statue, watching him go. Thenhe followed the constable, who brought him where the horse was. Sapt'sdevices for securing freedom from observation had served well, andRudolf mounted unmolested.

  "The hat doesn't fit very well," said Rudolf.

  "Like a crown better, eh?" suggested the colonel.

  Rudolf laughed as he asked, "Well, what are my orders?"

  "Ride round by the moat to the road at the back; then through the forestto Hofbau; you know your way after that. You mustn't reach Strelsau tillit's dark. Then, if you want a shelter--"

  "To Fritz von Tarlenheim's, yes! From there I shall go straight to theaddress."

  "Ay. And--Rudolf!"

  "Yes?"

  "Make an end of him this time."

  "Please God. But if he goes to the lodge? He will, unless Rischenheimstops him."

  "I'll be there in case--but I think Rischenheim will stop him."

  "If he comes here?"

  "Young Bernenstein will die before he suffers him to reach the king."

  "Sapt!"

  "Ay?"

  "Be kind to her."

  "Bless the man, yes!"

  "Good-by."

  "And good luck."

  At a swift canter Rudolf darted round the drive that led from thestables, by the moat, to the old forest road behind; five minutesbrought him within the shelter of the trees, and he rode on confidently,meeting nobody, save here and there a yokel, who, seeing a man ride hardwith his head averted, took no more notice of him than to wish that hehimself could ride abroad instead of being bound to work. Thus RudolfRassendyll set out again for the walls of Strelsau, through the forestof Zenda. And ahead of him, with an hour's start, galloped the Count ofLuzau-Rischenheim, again a man, and a man with resolution, resentment,and revenge in his heart.

  The game was afoot now; who could tell the issue of it?