mned riddles!" roared Sapt. "Man, are you bent on driving
me into it?"

The servant came near to him, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You went into as great a thing once before, sir," said he.

"It was to save the king."

"And this is to save the queen and yourself. For if we don't do it, the
truth about my master must be known."

Sapt made him no answer. They sat down again in silence.

There they sat, sometimes smoking, never speaking, while the tedious
afternoon wore away, and the shadows from the trees of the forest
lengthened. They did not think of eating or drinking; they did not move,
save when James rose and lit a little fire of brushwood in the grate.
It grew dusk and again James moved to light the lamp. It was hard on six
o'clock, and still no news came from Strelsau.

Then there was the sound of a horse's hoofs. The two rushed to the
door, beyond it, and far along the grassy road that gave approach to the
hunting-lodge. They forgot to guard the secret and the door gaped open
behind them. Sapt ran as he had not run for many a day, and outstripped
his companion. There was a message from Strelsau!

The constable, without a word of greeting, snatched the envelope
from the hand of the messenger and tore it open. He read it hastily,
muttering under his breath "Good God!" Then he turned suddenly round and
began to walk quickly back to James, who, seeing himself beaten in the
race, had dropped to a walk. But the messenger had his cares as well as
the constable. If the constable's thoughts were on a crown, so were his.
He called out in indignant protest:

"I have never drawn rein since Hofbau, sir. Am I not to have my crown?"

Sapt stopped, turned, and retraced his steps. He took a crown from his
pocket. As he looked up in giving it, there was a queer smile on his
broad, weather-beaten face.

"Ay," he said, "every man that deserves a crown shall have one, if I can
give it him."

Then he turned again to James, who had now come up, and laid his hand on
his shoulder.

"Come along, my king-maker," said he.

James looked in his face for a moment. The constable's eyes met his; and
the constable nodded.

So they turned to the lodge where the dead king and his huntsman lay.
Verily the fate drove.

CHAPTER XVI. A CROWD IN THE KONIGSTRASSE

The project that had taken shape in the thoughts of Mr. Rassendyll's
servant, and had inflamed Sapt's daring mind as the dropping of a spark
kindles dry shavings