of you, or why did you make a fool of me, cousin?"
While Rischenheim related how he had been trapped and tricked at the Castle of Zenda, Rupert of Hentzau made a very good breakfast. He offered no interruption and no comments, but when Rudolf Rassendyll came into the story he looked up for an instant with a quick jerk of his head and a sudden light in his eyes. The end of Rischenheim's narrative found him tolerant and smiling again.
"Ah, well, the snare was cleverly set," he said. "I don't wander you fell into it."
"And now you? What happened to you?" asked Rischenheim eagerly.
"I? Why, having your message which was not your message, I obeyed your directions which were not your directions."
"You went to the lodge?"
"Certainly."
"And found Sapt there?—Anybody else?"
"Why, not Sapt at all."
"Not Sapt? But surely they laid a trap for you?"
"Very possibly, but the jaws didn't bite." Rupert crossed his legs and lit a cigarette.
"But what did you find?"
"I? I found the King's forester, and the King's boar-hound, and—well, I found the King himself too."
"The King at the lodge?"
