Rudolf came nearer to him, fixing his eyes steadily on his prisoner’s face.
“I don’t know,” he continued, “why you are in this business, my lord. Your cousin’s motives I know well. But I wonder that they seemed to you great enough to justify the ruin of an unhappy lady who is your queen. Be assured that I will die sooner than let that letter reach the king’s hand.”
Rischenheim made him no answer.
“Are you armed?” asked Rudolf.
Rischenheim sullenly flung his revolver on the table. Bernenstein came forward and took it.
“Keep him here, Bernenstein. When I return I’ll tell you what more to do. If I don’t return, Fritz will be here soon, and you and he must make your own plans.”
“He sha’n’t give me the slip a second time,” said Bernenstein.
“We hold ourselves free,” said Rudolf to Rischenheim, “to do what we please with you, my lord. But I have no wish to cause your death, unless it be necessary. You will be wise to wait till your cousin’s fate is decided before you attempt any further steps against us.” And with a slight bow he left the prisoner in Bernenstein’s charge, and went back to the room where the queen awaited him. Helga was with her. The queen sprang up to meet him.
“I mustn’t lose a moment,” he said. “All that crowd of people know now that the king is here. The news will filter through the town in no time. We must send word to Sapt to keep it from the king’s ears at all costs: I must go and do my work, and then disappear.”
The queen stood facing him. Her eyes seemed to devour his face; but she said only: “Yes, it must be so.”