There was light in the room, and after some little time I turned my head towards it. A man was busy writing at a table. The light fell upon his face, and I began to puzzle myself as to where I had seen it before. Was it in England? No, I could not place it there. In France?--Italy?--Russia? No. I pondered and worried, then like a flash it came to me: Baron von Goltz! My mind seemed to clear, I understood the unpleasantness of my position. I felt the rope cut into my arms as I tried to burst myself free. Some noise I made must have roused the man's attention, for he raised his head and looked at me.
"Ah! awake, I see."
Then, as I made no answer, he carefully blotted the letter he had written, and enclosing it in an envelope placed it in his pocket. He rose from his chair, shook himself, and walked over to the bed on which I was lying. He was laughing to himself, as he stood looking down at me. I met his gaze steadily, until he turned away.
"I trust your Majesty is comfortable," he said.
"Quite, thank you; but it is a devilish bad bed." I would not let the fellow see that I was at all uneasy.
"Good! Anyone can see that you are not of the same breed as Alexis."
"Very distantly, I am glad to say; but you should not sneer at the Prince, even a dog should not snap at the hand that feeds him." I saw him wince at this, so I continued, "I suppose this is the work of your master, isn't it?"
"No, it is entirely my own."
"H'm! it is pretty low, even for you; but may I trouble you for some water? I find my throat rather parched."
"Gad! you are all right, even though you are an Englishman."