Bernenstein and I sprang out. With a last salute to the people Rudolf followed us. He walked up to the highest step but one, and there fell on one knee and kissed the Queen's hand. I was by him, and when he looked up in her face I heard him say:
"All's well. He's dead, and the letter burnt."
She raised him with her hand. Her lips moved, but it seemed as though she could find no words to speak. She put her arm through his, and thus they stood for an instant, fronting all Strelsau. Again the cheers rang out, and young Bernenstein sprang forward, waving his helmet and crying like a man possessed, "God save the King!" I was carried away by his enthusiasm and followed his lead. All the people took up the cry with boundless fervour, and thus we all, high and low in Strelsau, that afternoon hailed Mr. Rassendyll for our King. There has been no such zeal since Henry the Lion came back from his wars, a hundred and fifty years ago.
"And yet," observed old Helsing at my elbow, "agitators say there is no enthusiasm for the House of Elphberg!" He took a pinch of snuff in scornful satisfaction.
Young Bernenstein interrupted his cheering with a short laugh, but fell to his task again in a moment. I had recovered my senses by now, and stood panting, looking down on
