ave the king!" I was carried away by his
enthusiasm and followed his lead. All the people took up the cry with
boundless fervor, and thus we all, high and low in Strelsau, that
afternoon hailed Mr. Rassendyll for our king. There had 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 that 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 the crowd. It was growing dusk and the
faces became blurred into a white sea. Yet suddenly I seemed to discern
one glaring up at me from the middle of the crowd--the pale face of
a man with a bandage about his head. I caught Bernenstein's arm and
whispered, "Bauer," pointing with my finger where the face was. But,
even as I pointed, it was gone; though it seemed impossible for a man to
move in that press, yet it was gone. It had come like a cynic's warning
across the scene of mock triumph, and went swiftly as it had come,
leaving behind it a reminder of our peril. I felt suddenly sick at
heart, and almost cried out to the people to have done with their silly
shouting.

At last we got away. The plea of fatigue met all visitors who made their
way to the door and sought to offer their congratulations; it could not
disperse the crowd that hung persistently and contentedly about, ringing
us in the palace with a living fence. We still heard their jests and
cheers when we were alone in the small saloon that opens on the gardens.
My wife and I had come here at Rudolf's request; Bernenstein had assumed
the duty of guarding the door. Evening was now falling fast, and it grew
dark. The garden was quiet; the distant noise of the crowd threw its
stillness into greater relief. Rudolf told us there the story of his
struggle with Rupert of Hentzau in the attic of the old house, dwelling
on it as lightly as he could. The queen stood by his chair--she would
not let him rise; when he finished by telling how he had burnt her
letter, she stooped suddenly and kissed him off the brow. Then she
looked straight across at Helga, almost defiantly; but Helga ran to her
and caught her in her arms.

Rudolf Rassendyll sat with his head resting on his hand. He looked up
once at the two wome