being able to carry out the programme punctually; I had, however,
taken the precaution of obtaining a week's leave of absence, in
case any unforeseen accident should delay my return. Conscious of
having done all I could to guard against misunderstanding or
mishap, I got into the train in a tolerably peaceful frame of
mind. The box was in my inner pocket, the letter in a
portemonnaie. I could feel them both with my hand. I was not in
uniform, but I took my revolver. Although I had no reason to
anticipate any difficulties, I did not forget that what I carried
must be protected at all hazards and all costs.

The weary night journey wore itself away. Bauer came to me in the
morning, performed his small services, repacked my hand-bag,
procured me some coffee, and left me. It was then about eight
o'clock; we had arrived at a station of some importance and were
not to stop again till mid-day. I saw Bauer enter the
second-class compartment in which he was traveling, and settled
down in my own coupe. I think it was at this moment that the
thought of Rischenheim came again into my head, and I found
myself wondering why he clung to the hopeless idea of compassing
Rupert's return and what business had taken him from Strelsau.
But I made little of the matter, and, drowsy from a broken
night's rest, soon fell into a doze. I was alone in the carriage
and could sleep without fear or danger. I was awakened by our
noontide halt. Here I saw Bauer again. After taking a basin of
soup, I went to the telegraph bureau to send a message to my
wife; the receipt of it would not merely set her mind at case,
but would also ensure word of my safe progress reaching the
queen. As I entered the bureau I met Bauer coming out of it. He
seemed rather startled at our encounter, but told me readily