“I shall overtake Rischenheim or be hot on his heels. If he gets there first, Sapt will keep him waiting till I come; and if I come, he shall never see the king. Yes, if I come in time--” He broke into a sudden laugh. “What!” he cried, “have I lost my likeness? Can’t I still play the king? Yes, if I come in time, Rischenheim shall have his audience of the king of Zenda, and the king will be very gracious to him, and the king will take his copy of the letter from him! Oh, Rischenheim shall have an audience of King Rudolf in the castle of Zenda, never fear!” He stood, looking to see how I received his plan; but amazed at the boldness of it, I could only lie back and gasp. Rudolf’s excitement left him as suddenly as it had come; he was again the cool, shrewd, nonchalant Englishman, as, lighting another cigarette, he proceeded: “You see, there are two of them, Rupert and Rischenheim. Now you can’t move for a day or two, that’s certain. But there must be two of us there in Ruritania. Rischenheim is to try first; but if he fails, Rupert will risk everything and break through to the king’s presence. Give him five minutes with the king, and the mischief’s done! Very well, then; Sapt must keep Rupert at bay while I tackle Rischenheim. As soon as you can move, go to Strelsau, and let Sapt know where you are.” “But if you’re seen, if you’re found out?” “Better I than the queen’s letter,” said he. Then he laid his hand on my arm and said, quite quietly, “If the letter gets to the king, I and I only can do what must be done.” I did not know what he meant; perhaps it was that he would carry off the queen sooner than leave her alone after her letter was known; but there was another possible meaning that I, a loyal subject, dared not inquire into. Yet I made no answer, for I was above all and first of all the queen’s servant. Still I cannot believe that he meant harm to the king. “Come, Fritz,” he cried, “don’t look so glum. This is not so great an affair as the other, and we brought that through safe.” I suppose I still looked doubtful, for he added, with a sort of impatience, “Well, I’m going, anyhow. Heavens, man, am I to sit here while that letter is carried to the king?” I understood his feeling, and knew that he held life a light thing compared with the recovery of Queen Flavia’s letter. I ceased to urge him. When I assented to his wishes, every shadow vanished from his face, and he began to discuss the details of the plan with business-like brevity. “I shall leave James with you,” said Rudolf. “He’ll be very useful, and you can rely on him absolutely. Any message that you dare trust to no other conveyance, give to him; he’ll carry it. He can shoot, too.” He rose as he spoke. “I’ll look in before I start,” he added, “and hear what the doctor says about you.”