Although Rischenheim had intended to go first to the palace, Anton’s offer seemed to give him a good excuse for drawing the more likely covert first. “I was going to the palace to find out where the king is. I want to see him, if he’ll give me a minute or two,” he remarked. “I’ll drive you there afterwards. Jump up. That your cab? Here you are, cabman,” and flinging the cabman a crown, he displaced the bouquet and made room for Rischenheim beside him. Anton’s horses, of which he was not a little proud, made short work of the distance to my home. The phaeton rattled up to the door and both young men got out. The moment of their arrival found the chancellor just leaving to return to his own home. Helsing knew them both, and stopped to rally Anton on the matter of his bouquet. Anton was famous for his bouquets, which he distributed widely among the ladies of Strelsau. “I hoped it was for my daughter,” said the chancellor slyly. “For I love flowers, and my wife has ceased to provide me with them; moreover, I’ve ceased to provide her with them, so, but for my daughter, we should have none.” Anton answered his chaff, promising a bouquet for the young lady the next day, but declaring that he could not disappoint his cousin. He was interrupted by Rischenheim, who, looking round on the group of bystanders, now grown numerous, exclaimed: “What’s going on here, my dear chancellor? What are all these people hanging about here for? Ah, that’s a royal carriage!” “The queen’s with the countess,” answered Helsing. “The people are waiting to see her come out.” “She’s always worth seeing,” Anton pronounced, sticking his glass in his eye. “And you’ve been to visit her?” pursued Rischenheim. “Why, yes. I--I went to pay my respects, my dear Rischenheim.” “An early visit!” “It was more or less on business.” “Ah, I have business also, and very important business. But it’s with the king.” “I won’t keep you a moment, Rischenheim,” called Anton, as, bouquet in hand, he knocked at the door. “With the king?” said Helsing. “Ah, yes, but the king--” “I’m on my way to the palace to find out where he is. If I can’t see him, I must write at once. My business is very urgent.” “Indeed, my dear count, indeed! Dear me! Urgent, you say?” “But perhaps you can help me. Is he at Zenda?” The chancellor was becoming very embarrassed; Anton had disappeared into the house; Rischenheim buttonholed him resolutely. “At Zenda? Well, now, I don’t--Excuse me, but what’s your business?” “Excuse me, my dear chancellor; it’s a secret.” “I have the king’s confidence.” “Then you’ll be indifferent to not enjoying mine,” smiled Rischenheim. “I perceive that your arm is hurt,” observed the chancellor, seeking a diversion. “Between ourselves, that has something to do with my business. Well, I must go to the palace. Or--stay--would her Majesty condescend to help me? I think I’ll risk a request. She can but refuse,” and so saying Rischenheim approached the door.