“Exactly, my dear young lady. Very vexatious it is, upon my word!” In this remark, at least, Rudolf spoke no more and no other than he felt. “But when do you expect the Count of Hentzau?” he pursued.
“Early in the morning, your Majesty—at seven or eight.”
Rudolf came nearer to her, and took a couple of gold coins from his pocket.
“I don’t want money, your Majesty,” she murmured.
“Oh, make a hole in them and hang them round your neck.”
“Ah, yes: yes, give them to me,” she cried, holding out her hand eagerly.
“You’ll earn them?” he asked, playfully holding them out of her reach.
“How?”
“By being ready to open to me when I come at eleven and knock as Bauer knocked.”
“Yes, I’ll be there.”