enough again to play the King in Strelsau. The old Chancellor was a very good fellow, and I do not think that Rudolf did wrong in relying upon him. Where he miscalculated was, of course, just where he was ignorant. The whole of what the Queen's friends, aye, and the Queen herself, did in Strelsau, became useless and mischievous by reason of the King's death; their action must have been utterly different, had they been aware of that catastrophe; but their wisdom should be judged only according to their knowledge.
In the first place the Chancellor himself showed much good sense. Even before he obeyed the King's summons he sent for the two servants and charged them, on pain of instant dismissal and worse things to follow, to say nothing of what they had seen. His commands to his wife and daughter were more polite, doubtless, but no less peremptory. He may well have supposed that the King's business was private as well as important when it led His Majesty to be roaming the streets of Strelsau at a moment when he was supposed to be at the Castle of Zenda, and to enter a friend's house by the window at such untimely hours. The mere facts were eloquent of secrecy. Moreover the King had shaved his beard—the ladies were sure of it—and this again, though it might be merely an accidental coincidence, was also capable of signifying a very urgent desire to be unknown.
