“Thanks, Simon, thanks: we understand.”
He bowed to the queen; she roused herself, and added her thanks to mine. Simon withdrew, looking still a little puzzled.
After we were left alone, there was a moment’s silence. Then I said:
“Suppose Rupert—”
The Constable of Zenda broke in with a short laugh.
“On my life,” said he, “how things fall out! We say he will go to the hunting-lodge, and—he goes!”
“If Rupert goes—if Rischenheim doesn’t stop him!” I urged again.
The queen rose from her seat and stretched out her hands towards us.
“Gentlemen, my letter!” said she.
Sapt wasted no time.