“I don’t think he’ll give you much trouble,” whispered Sapt to Bernenstein, with a jerk of his thumb towards the captive. “Act as if he were likely to give you much,” urged Rudolf, laying his hand on the lieutenant’s arm. “Yes, that’s a wise man’s advice,” nodded the constable approvingly. “We were well governed, Lieutenant, when this Rudolf was king.” “Wasn’t I also his loyal subject?” asked young Bernenstein. “Yes, wounded in my service,” added Rudolf; for he remembered how the boy--he was little more then--had been fired upon in the park of Tarlenheim, being taken for Mr. Rassendyll himself. Thus their plans were laid. If they could defeat Rupert, they would have Rischenheim at their mercy. If they could keep Rischenheim out of the way while they used his name in their trick, they had a strong chance of deluding and killing Rupert. Yes, of killing him; for that and nothing less was their purpose, as the constable of Zenda himself has told me. “We would have stood on no ceremony,” he said. “The queen’s honor was at stake, and the fellow himself an assassin.” Bernenstein rose and went out. He was gone about half an hour, being employed in despatching the telegrams to Strelsau. Rudolf and Sapt used the interval to explain to Rischenheim what they proposed to do with him. They asked no pledge, and he offered none. He heard what they said with a dulled uninterested air. When asked if he would go without resistance, he laughed a bitter laugh. “How can I resist?” he asked. “I should have a bullet through my head.” “Why, without doubt,” said Colonel Sapt. “My lord, you are very sensible.” “Let me advise you, my lord,” said Rudolf, looking down on him kindly enough, “if you come safe through this affair, to add honor to your prudence, and chivalry to your honor. There is still time for you to become a gentleman.” He turned away, followed by a glance of anger from the count and a grating chuckle from old Sapt. A few moments later Bernenstein returned. His errand was done, and horses for himself and Rischenheim were at the gate of the castle. After a few final words and clasp of the hand from Rudolf, the lieutenant motioned to his prisoner to accompany him, and they two walked out together, being to all appearance willing companions and in perfect friendliness with one another. The queen herself watched them go from the windows of her apartment, and noticed that Bernenstein rode half a pace behind, and that his free hand rested on the revolver by his side.