the romantic girls who found a naughty delight in half-fanciful devotion to him—devotion starting, in many cases, by an irony of which the king was happily unconscious, from the brave figure that he made at his coronation and his picturesque daring in the affair of Black Michael. The worshipers never came near enough to perceive the alteration in their idol.
The half then, at least, of Rosa's attachment was justly due to the man who now stood opposite to her, looking at her with surprise by the murky light of the strong-smelling oil-lamp. The lamp shook and almost fell from her hand when she saw him; for the scarf had slid away, and his features were exposed to full view. Fright, delight, and excitement vied with one another in her eyes.
"The king!" she whispered in amazement. "No, but—" And she searched his face wonderingly.
"Is it the beard you miss?" asked Rudolf, fingering his chin. "Mayn't kings shave when they please, as well as other men?" Her face still expressed bewilderment, and still a lingering doubt. He bent towards her, whispering: "Perhaps I wasn't over-anxious to be known at once."
She flushed with pleasure at the confidence he seemed to put in her.
"I should know you anywhere," she whispered, with a glance of the great black eyes. "Anywhere, Your Majesty."
"Then you'll help me, perhaps?"
"With my life."
"No, no, my dear young lady, merely with a little information. Whose house is this?"
"My mother's."
"Ah! She takes lodgers?"
The girl appeared vexed at his cautious approaches.
"Tell me what you want to know," she said simply.
"Then who's here?"
"My lord the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim."
"And what's he doing?"
"He's lying on the bed moaning and swearing, because his wounded arm gives him pain."
"And is nobody else here?"
She looked round warily, and sank her voice to a whisper as she answered:
"No, not now—nobody else."
"I was seeking a friend of mine," said Rudolf. "I want to see him alone. It's not easy for a king to see people alone."
"You mean?"
"Well, you know who I mean."
"Yes. No, he's gone; but he's gone to find you."
"To find me! Plague take it! How do you know that, my pretty lady?"
"Bauer told me."
"Ah, Bauer! And who's Bauer?"
"The man who knocked. Why did you shut him out?"
"To be alone with you, to be sure. So Bauer tells you his master's secrets?"
She acknowledged his raillery with a coquettish laugh. It was not amiss for the king to see that she had her admirers.
"Well, and where has this foolish count gone to meet me?" asked Rudolf lightly.
"You haven't seen him?"
"No; I came straight from the Castle of Zenda."
"But," she cried, "he expected to find you at the hunting-lodge. Ah, but now I recollect! The Count of Rischenheim was greatly vexed to find, on his return, that his cousin was gone."
"Ah, he was gone! Now I see! Rischenheim brought a message from me to Count Rupert."
"And they missed one another, Your Majesty?"
"Exactly, my dear young lady. Very vexatious it is, upon my word!" In this remark, at least, Rudolf spoke no more and no other than he felt. "But when do you expect the Count of Hentzau?" he pursued.
"Early in the morning, Your Majesty—at seven or eight."
Rudolf came nearer to her, and took a couple of gold coins from his pocket.
"I don't want money, Your Majesty," she murmured.
"Oh, make a hole in them and hang them round your neck."
"Ah, yes: yes, give them to me," she cried, holding out her hand eagerly.
"You'll earn them?" he asked, playfully holding them out of her reach.
"How?"
"By being ready to open to me when I come at eleven and knock as Bauer knocked."
"Yes, I'll be there."
"And by telling nobody that I've been here to-night. Will you promise me that?"
"Not my mother?"
"No."
"Nor the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim?"
"Him least of all. You must tell no-
