“I suppose he’ll stick to it,” I ended; and I thought he would, though I was not eager for his help.
A light gleamed in Bernenstein’s eyes, and I felt a tremble in the hand that he laid on my shoulder.
“Then there’s only Bauer now,” he whispered. “If Rischenheim’s with us, only Bauer!”
I knew very well what he meant. With Rischenheim silent, Bauer was the only man, save Rupert himself, who knew the truth, the only man who threatened that great scheme which more and more filled our thoughts and grew upon us with an increasing force of attraction as every obstacle to it seemed to be cleared out of the way. But I would not look at Bernenstein, fearing to acknowledge even with my eyes how my mind jumped with his. He was bolder, or less scrupulous—which you will.
“Yes, if we can shut Bauer’s mouth.” he went on.
“The queen’s waiting for the carriage,” I interrupted snappishly.
“Ah, yes, of course, the carriage,” and he twisted me round till I was forced to look him in the face. Then he smiled, and even laughed a little.
“Only Bauer now!” said he.
“And Rupert,” I remarked sourly.
“Oh, Rupert’s dead bones by now,” he chuckled, and with that he went out of the hall door and announced the queen’s approach to her servants. It must be said for young Bernenstein that he was a cheerful fellow-conspirator. His equanimity almost matched Rudolf’s own; I could not rival it myself.