“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 would let 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 the message that he wrote:
“Holf, 19, Konigstrasse, Strelsau.—All well. He has what I had, but wishes to see what you have. He and I will be at the hunting-lodge at ten this evening. Bring it and meet us. The business is unsuspected.—R.”
Rudolf threw the paper across to Sapt; Bernenstein leant over the constable’s shoulder and read it eagerly.
“I doubt if it would bring me,” grinned old Sapt, throwing the paper down.
“It’ll bring Rupert to Hentzau. Why not? He’ll know that the king will wish 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 choose than his hunting-lodge, where he is accustomed to go when he wishes to be alone? The message will bring him, depend on it. Why, man, Rupert would 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 Rudolf quickly.