“I hope,” said the latter, looking searchingly at Rudolph, “that they haven’t got too much of this stuff up at the house.”
“Only one bottle, this size,” answered Rudolph, fingering the bottle lovingly. “One quart won’t do much harm among five men. And they’ll need it, I tell you. That old house takes water like a sponge on a night like this. I’ve done what I could to make it comfortable for you all, but I wasn’t prepared for a flood like this.”
“Hark,” cried Ludovics nervously, turning an ear to the window: “I thought I heard wheels.”
“They’re in your head, Ludovics,” remarked Rudolph, jocosely. He had picked up a good deal of slang from the Westchester urchins who haunted the lodge gate. “Come, light a cigar. In a storm like this it’s a hard drive after they leave the bridge. I don’t expect them for an hour yet.”
They puffed in silence for a time. Finally Ludovics said, with suppressed excitement in his voice:
“Rudolph, you’re a man of sense, and you love the cause. Do you realize the full significance of this night’s work?”
The lodge-keeper turned his puffy, pallid face full toward his guest and eyed him keenly.
“No, Ludovics; and nobody does. It’ll probably cost me my job.”
Ludovics waved his hand impatiently.
“I don’t mean that. If we are cautious, I don’t see how you can get into trouble. What I mean is this: we are to have the whole political future of our fatherland, the fate of dear old Rexania, right here in our grasp. No power on earth can despoil us of our absolute grip upon a nation’s destiny so long as the crown prince is within our control. It is an awful responsibility that comes to us to-night, Rudolph.”