over the palace and barracks. He took out his watch; Rischenheim imitated his action: it was ten minutes to ten.
"Rischenheim," he called, "come here a moment. Here—look out."
Rischenheim obeyed, and Rupert let him look for a minute or two before speaking again.
"Do you see anything remarkable?" he asked then.
"No, nothing," answered Rischenheim, still curt and sullen in his fright.
"Well, no more do I. And that's very odd. For don't you think that Sapt or some other of Her Majesty's friends must have gone to the lodge last night?"
"They meant to, I swear," said Rischenheim with sudden attention.
"Then they would have found the King. There's a telegraph wire at Hofbau, only a few miles away. And it's ten o'clock. My cousin, why isn't Strelsau mourning for our lamented King? Why aren't the flags at half-mast? I don't understand it."
"No," murmured Rischenheim, his eyes now fixed on his cousin's face.
Rupert broke into a smile and tapped his teeth with his fingers.
"I wonder," said he meditatively, "if that old player Sapt has got a king up his sleeve again! If that were so" He stopped and seemed to fall into deep thought.
