did not answer to myself, but the old idea was working in me.
Safe in our secret and safe in our plan--in the plan on which we all, we
here in the city, and those two at the hunting-lodge, had set our minds!
Bauer's death, Bauer's capture, Bauer's silence, however procured, would
clear the greatest hindrance from its way.

Bauer stared intently at the house; I crept cautiously up behind him.
His hand was in his trousers' pocket; where the curve of the elbow came
there with a space between arm and body. I slipped in my left arm and
hooked it firmly inside his. He turned round and saw me.

"Thus we meet again, Bauer," said I.

He was for a moment flabbergasted, and stared stupidly at me.

"Are you also hoping to see the king?" I asked.

He began to recover himself. A slow, cunning smile spread over his face.

"The king?" he asked.

"Well, he's in Strelsau, isn't he? Who gave you the wound on your head?"

Bauer moved his arm as though he meant to withdraw it from my grasp. He
found himself tightly held.

"Where's that bag of mine?" I asked.

I do not know what he would have answered, for at this instant there
came a sound from behind the closed door of the house. It was as if some
one ran rapidly and eagerly towards the door. Then came an oath in a
shrill voice, a woman's voice, but harsh and rough. It was answered by
an angry cry in a girl's intonation. Full of eagerness, I drew my arm
from Bauer's and sprang forward. I heard a chuckle from him and turned
round, to see his bandaged head retreating rapidly down the street. I
had no time to look to him, for now I saw two men, shoulder to shoulder,
making their way through the crowd, regardless of any one in their
way, and paying no attention to abuse or remonstrances. They were the
lieutenant and Rischenheim. Without a moment's hesitation I set myself
to push and battle a way through, thinking to join them in front. On
they went, and on I went. All gave place before us in surly reluctance
or frightened willingness. We three were together in the first rank of
the crowd when the door of the house was flung open, and a girl ran
out. Her hair was disordered, her face pale, and her eyes full of alarm.
There she stood on the doorstep, facing the crowd, which in an instant
grew as if by magic to three times its former size, and, little knowing
what she did, she cried in the eager accents of sheer terror:

"Help, help! The king! The king!"

CHAPTER XVII. YOUNG RUP