by Anthony Hope
CHAPTER XV. A PASTIME FOR COLONEL SAPT
THE Constable of Zenda and James, Mr. Rassendyll's servant, sat atbreakfast in the hunting-lodge. They were in the small room which wasordinarily used as the bedroom of the gentleman in attendance on theking: they chose it now because it commanded a view of the approach. Thedoor of the house was securely fastened; they were prepared to refuseadmission; in case refusal was impossible, the preparations forconcealing the king's body and that of his huntsman Herbert werecomplete. Inquirers would be told that the king had ridden out with hishuntsman at daybreak, promising to return in the evening but not statingwhere he was going; Sapt was under orders to await his return, and Jameswas expecting instructions from his master the Count of Tarlenheim.Thus armed against discovery, they looked for news from me which shoulddetermine their future action.
Meanwhile there was an interval of enforced idleness. Sapt, his mealfinished, puffed away at his great pipe; James, after much pressure, hadconsented to light a small black clay, and sat at his ease with hislegs stretched before him. His brows were knit, and a curious half-smileplayed about his mouth.
"What may you be thinking about, friend James?" asked the constablebetween two puffs. He had taken a fancy to the alert, ready littlefellow.
James smoked for a moment, and then took his pipe from his mouth.
"I was thinking, sir, that since the king is dead--"
He paused.
"The king is no doubt dead, poor fellow," said Sapt, nodding.
"That since he's certainly dead, and since my master, Mr. Rassendyll, isalive--"
"So far as we know, James," Sapt reminded him.
"Why, yes, sir, so far as we know. Since, then, Mr. Rassendyll is aliveand the king is dead, I was thinking that it was a great pity, sir, thatmy master can't take his place and be king." James looked across at theconstable with an air of a man who offers a respectful suggestion.
"A remarkable thought, James," observed the constable with a grin.
"You don't agree with me, sir?" asked James deprecatingly.
"I don't say that it isn't a pity, for Rudolf makes a good king. But yousee it's impossible, isn't it?"
James nursed his knee between his hands, and his pipe, which he hadreplaced, stuck out of one corner of his mouth.
"When you say impossible, sir," he remarked deferentially, "I venture todiffer from you."
"You do? Come, we're at leisure. Let's hear how it would be possible."
"My master is in Strelsau, sir," began James.
"Well, most likely."
"I'm sure of it, sir. If he's been there, he will be taken for theking."
"That has happened before, and no doubt may happen again, unless--"
"Why, of course, sir, unless the king's body should be discovered."
"That's what I was about to say, James."
James kept silence for a few minutes. Then he observed, "It will be veryawkward to explain how the king was killed."
"The story will need good telling," admitted Sapt.
"And it will be difficult to make it appear that the king was killed inStrelsau; yet if my master should chance to be killed in Strelsau--"
"Heaven forbid, James! On all grounds, Heaven forbid!"
"Even if my master is not killed, it will be difficult for us to get theking killed at the right time, and by means that will seem plausible."
Sapt seemed to fall into the humor of the speculation. "That's all verytrue. But if Mr. Rassendyll is to be king, it will be both awkwardand difficult to dispose of the king's body and of this poor fellowHerbert," said he, sucking at his pipe.
Again James paused for a little while before he remarked: "I am, ofcourse, sir, only discussing the matter by way of passing the time. Itwould probably be wrong to carry any such plan into effect."
"It might be, but let us discuss it--to pass the time," said Sapt; andhe leant forward, looking into the servant's quiet, shrewd face.
"Well, then, sir, since it amuses you, let us say that the king cameto the lodge last night, and was joined there by his friend Mr.Rassendyll."
"And did I come too?"
"You, sir, came also, in attendance on the king."
"Well, and you, James? You came. How came you?"
"Why, sir, by the Count of Tarlenheim's orders, to wait on Mr.Rassendyll, the king's friend. Now, the king, sir... This is my story,you know, sir, only my story."
"Your story interests me. Go on with it."
"The king went out very early this morning, sir."
"That would be on private business?"
"So we should have understood. But Mr. Rassendyll, Herbert, andourselves remained here."
"Had the Count of Hentzau been?"
"Not to our knowledge, sir. But we were all tired and slept verysoundly."
"Now did we?" said the constable, with a grim smile.
"In fact, sir, we were all overcome with fatigue--Mr. Rassendyll likethe rest--and full morning found us still in our beds. There we shouldbe to this moment, sir, had we not been suddenly aroused in a startlingand fearful manner."
"You should write story books, James. Now what was this fearful mannerin which we were aroused?"
James laid down his pipe, and, resting his hands on his knees, continuedhis story.
"This lodge, sir, this wooden lodge--for the lodge is all of wood, sir,without and within."
"This lodge is undoubtedly of wood, James, and, as you say, both insideand out."
"And since it is, sir, it would be mighty careless to leave a candleburning where the oil and firewood are stored."
"Most criminal!"
"But hard words don't hurt dead men; and you see, sir, poor Herbert isdead."
"It is true. He wouldn't feel aggrieved."
"But we, sir, you and I, awaking--"
"Aren't the others to awake, James?"
"Indeed, sir, I should pray that they had never awaked. For you and I,waking first, would find the lodge a mass of flames. We should have torun for our lives."
"What! Should we make no effort to rouse the others?"
"Indeed, sir, we should do all that men could do; we should even riskdeath by suffocation."
"But we should fail, in spite of our heroism, should we?"
"Alas, sir, in spite of all our efforts we should fail. The flames wouldenvelop the lodge in one blaze; before help could come, the lodge wouldbe in ruins, and my unhappy master and poor Herbert would be consumed toashes."
"Hum!"
"They would, at least, sir, be entirely unrecognizable."
"You think so?"
"Beyond doubt, if the oil and the firewood and the candle were placed tothe best advantage."
"Ah, yes. And there would be an end of Rudolf Rassendyll?"
"Sir, I should myself carry the tidings to his family."
"Whereas the King of Ruritania--"
"Would enjoy a long and prosperous reign, God willing, sir."
"And the Queen of Ruritania, James?"
"Do not misunderstand me, sir. They could be secretly married. I shouldsay re-married."
"Yes, certainly, re-married."
"By a trustworthy priest."
"You mean by an untrustworthy priest?"
"It's the same thing, sir, from a different point of view." For thefirst time James smiled a thoughtful smile.
Sapt in his turn laid down his pipe now, and was tugging at hismoustache. There was a smile on his lips too, and his eyes looked hardinto James's. The little man met his glance composedly.
"It's an ingenious fancy, this of yours, James," the constable remarked."What, though, if your master's killed too? That's quite possible. CountRupert's a man to be reckoned with."
"If my master is killed, sir, he must be buried," answered James.
"In Strelsau?" came in quick question from Sapt.
"He won't mind where, sir."
"True, he won't mind, and we needn't mind for him."
"Why, no, sir. But to carry a body secretly from here
to Strelsau--"
"Yes, that is, as we agreed at the first, difficult. Well, it's a prettystory, but--your master wouldn't approve of it. Supposing he were notkilled, I mean."
"It's a waste of time, sir, disapproving of what's done: he might thinkthe story better than the truth, although it's not a good story."
The two men's eyes met again in a long glance.
"Where do you come from?" asked Sapt, suddenly.
"London, sir, originally."
"They make good stories there?"
"Yes, sir, and act them sometimes."
The instant he had spoken, James sprang to his feet and pointed out ofthe window.
A man on horseback was cantering towards the lodge. Exchanging onequick look, both hastened to the door, and, advancing some twenty yards,waited under the tree on the spot where Boris lay buried.
"By the way," said Sapt, "you forgot the dog." And he pointed to theground.
"The affectionate beast will be in his master's room and die there,sir."
"Eh, but he must rise again first!"
"Certainly, sir. That won't be a long matter."
Sapt was still smiling in grim amusement when the messenger came up and,leaning from his home, handed him a telegram.
"Special and urgent, sir," said he.
Sapt tore it open and read. It was the message that I sent in obedienceto Mr. Rassendyll's orders. He would not trust my cipher, but, indeed,none was necessary. Sapt would understand the message, although it saidsimply, "The king is in Strelsau. Wait orders at the lodge. Businesshere in progress, but not finished. Will wire again."
Sapt handed it to James, who took it with a respectful little bow. Jamesread it with attention, and returned it with another bow.
"I'll attend to what it says, sir," he remarked.
"Yes," said Sapt. "Thanks, my man," he added to the messenger. "Here'sa crown for you. If any other message comes for me and you bring it ingood time, you shall have another."
"You shall have it quick as a horse can bring it from the station, sir."
"The king's business won't bear delay, you know," nodded Sapt.
"You sha'n't have to wait, sir," and, with a parting salute, the fellowturned his horse and trotted away.
"You see," remarked Sapt, "that your story is quite imaginary. Forthat fellow can see for himself that the lodge was not burnt down lastnight."
"That's true; but, excuse me, sir--"
"Pray go on, James. I've told you that I'm interested."
"He can't see that it won't be burnt down to-night. A fire, sir, is athing that may happen any night."
Then old Sapt suddenly burst into a roar, half-speech, half laughter.
"By God, what a thing!" he roared; and James smiled complacently.
"There's a fate about it," said the constable. "There's a strange fateabout it. The man was born to it. We'd have done it before if Michaelhad throttled the king in that cellar, as I thought he would. Yes, byheavens, we'd have done it! Why, we wanted it! God forgive us, in ourhearts both Fritz and I wanted it. But Rudolf would have the king out.He would have him out, though he lost a throne--and what he wantedmore--by it. But he would have him out. So he thwarted the fate. Butit's not to be thwarted. Young Rupert may think this new affair is hisdoing. No, it's the fate using him. The fate brought Rudolf here again,the fate will have him king. Well, you stare at me. Do you think I'mmad, Mr. Valet?"
"I think, sir, that you talk very good sense, if I may say so," answeredJames.
"Sense?" echoed Sapt with a chuckle. "I don't know about that. But thefate's there, depend on it!"
The two were back in their little room now, past the door that hid thebodies of the king and his huntsman. James stood by the table, old Saptroamed up and down, tugging his moustache, and now and again sawing theair with his sturdy hairy hand.
"I daren't do it," he muttered: "I daren't do it. It's a thing a mancan't set his hand to of his own will. But the fate'll do it--thefate'll do it. The fate'll force it on us."
"Then we'd best be ready, sir," suggested James quietly. Sapt turned onhim quickly, almost fiercely.
"They used to call me a cool hand," said he. "By Jove, what are you?"
"There's no harm in being ready, sir," said James, the servant.
Sapt came to him and caught hold of his shoulders. "Ready?" he asked ina gruff whisper.
"The oil, the firewood, the light," said James.
"Where, man, where? Do you mean, by the bodies?"
"Not where the bodies are now. Each must be in the proper place."
"We must move them then?"
"Why, yes. And the dog too."
Sapt almost glared at him; then he burst into a laugh.
"So be it," he said. "You take command. Yes, we'll be ready. The fatedrives."
Then and there they set about what they had to do. It seemed indeed asthough some strange influence were dominating Sapt; he went about thework like a man who is hardly awake. They placed the bodies each wherethe living man would be by night--the king in the guest-room, thehuntsman in the sort of cupboard where the honest fellow had been wontto lie. They dug up the buried dog, Sapt chuckling convulsively, Jamesgrave as the mute whose grim doings he seemed to travesty: they carriedthe shot-pierced, earth-grimed thing in, and laid it in the king's room.Then they made their piles of wood, pouring the store of oil over them,and setting bottles of spirit near, that the flames having cracked thebottles, might gain fresh fuel. To Sapt it seemed now as if they playedsome foolish game that was to end with the playing, now as if theyobeyed some mysterious power which kept its great purpose hidden fromits instruments. Mr. Rassendyll's servant moved and arranged and orderedall as deftly as he folded his master's clothes or stropped his master'srazor. Old Sapt stopped him once as he went by.
"Don't think me a mad fool, because I talk of the fate," he said, almostanxiously.
"Not I, sir," answered James, "I know nothing of that. But I like to beready."
"It would be a thing!" muttered Sapt.
The mockery, real or assumed, in which they had begun their work, hadvanished now. If they were not serious, they played at seriousness. Ifthey entertained no intention such as their acts seemed to indicate,they could no longer deny that they had cherished a hope. They shrank,or at least Sapt shrank, from setting such a ball rolling; but theylonged for the fate that would give it a kick, and they made smooth theincline down which it, when thus impelled, was to run. When they hadfinished their task and sat down again opposite to one another in thelittle front room, the whole scheme was ready, the preparations weremade, all was in train; they waited only for that impulse from chance orfate which was to turn the servant's story into reality and action.And when the thing was done, Sapt's coolness, so rarely upset, yet socompletely beaten by the force of that wild idea, came back to him. Helit his pipe again and lay back in his chair, puffing freely, with ameditative look on his face.
"It's two o'clock, sir," said James. "Something should have happenedbefore now in Strelsau."
"Ah, but what?" asked the constable.
Suddenly breaking on their ears came a loud knock at the door. Absorbedin their own thoughts, they had not noticed two men riding up to thelodge. The visitors wore the green and gold of the king's huntsmen;the one who had knocked was Simon, the chief huntsman, and brother ofHerbert, who lay dead in the little room inside.
"Rather dangerous!" muttered the Constable of Zenda as he hurried to thedoor, James following him.
Simon was astonished when Sapt opened the door.
"Beg pardon, Constable, but I want to see Herbert. Can I go in?" And hejumped down from his horse, throwing the reins to his companion.
"What's the good of your going in?" asked Sapt. "Herbert's not here."
"Not here? Then where is he?"
"Why, he went with the king this morning."
"Oh, he went with the king, sir? Then he's in Strelsau, I suppose?"
"If you know that, Simon, you're wiser than I am."
"But the king is in Strelsau, sir."
"The deuce he is! He said nothing of going to Strelsau. He rose earlyand rode off with Herbert, merely saying they would be back to-night."
"He went to Strelsau, sir. I am just from Zenda, and his Majesty isknown to have been in town with the queen. They were both at CountFritz's."
"I'm much interested to hear it. But didn't the telegram say whereHerbert was?"
Simon laughed.
"Herbert's not a king, you see," he said. "Well, I'll come againto-morrow morning, for I must see him soon. He'll be back by then, sir?"
"Yes, Simon, your brother will be here to-morrow morning."
"Or what's left of him after such a two-days of work," suggested Simonjocularly.
"Why, yes, precisely," said Sapt, biting his moustache and darting oneswift glance at James. "Or what's left of him, as you say."
"And I'll bring a cart and carry the boar down to the castle at the sametime, sir. At least, I suppose you haven't eaten it all?"
Sapt laughed; Simon was gratified at the tribute, and laughed even moreheartily himself.
"We haven't even cooked it yet," said Sapt, "but I won't answer for itthat we sha'n't have by to-morrow."
"All right, sir; I'll be here. By the way, there's another bit of newscome on the wires. They say Count Rupert of Hentzau has been seen in thecity."
"Rupert of Hentzau? Oh, pooh! Nonsense, my good Simon. He daren't showhis face there for his life."
"Ah, but it may be no nonsense. Perhaps that's what took the king toStrelsau."
"It's enough to take him if it's true," admitted Sapt.
"Well, good day, sir."
"Good day, Simon."
The two huntsmen rode off. James watched them for a little while.
"The king," he said then, "is known to be in Strelsau; and now CountRupert is known to be in Strelsau. How is Count Rupert to have killedthe king here in the forest of Zenda, sir?"
Sapt looked at him almost apprehensively.
"How is the king's body to come to the forest of Zenda?" asked James."Or how is the king's body to go to the city of Strelsau?"
"Stop your damned riddles!" roared Sapt. "Man, are you bent on drivingme 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, thetruth 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 tediousafternoon wore away, and the shadows from the trees of the forestlengthened. 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 sixo'clock, and still no news came from Strelsau.
Then there was the sound of a horse's hoofs. The two rushed to thedoor, beyond it, and far along the grassy road that gave approach to thehunting-lodge. They forgot to guard the secret and the door gaped openbehind them. Sapt ran as he had not run for many a day, and outstrippedhis companion. There was a message from Strelsau!
The constable, without a word of greeting, snatched the envelopefrom the hand of the messenger and tore it open. He read it hastily,muttering under his breath "Good God!" Then he turned suddenly round andbegan to walk quickly back to James, who, seeing himself beaten in therace, had dropped to a walk. But the messenger had his cares as well asthe 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 hispocket. As he looked up in giving it, there was a queer smile on hisbroad, weather-beaten face.
"Ay," he said, "every man that deserves a crown shall have one, if I cangive it him."
Then he turned again to James, who had now come up, and laid his hand onhis shoulder.
"Come along, my king-maker," said he.
James looked in his face for a moment. The constable's eyes met his; andthe constable nodded.
So they turned to the lodge where the dead king and his huntsman lay.Verily the fate drove.