errand. On the other hand, nothing was known against Rischenheim,
while his rank would secure, and indeed entitle, him to an early
audience. Therefore I concluded that Rischenheim would go with
the letter, or, if Rupert would not let that out of his
possession, with the news of the letter.

"Or a copy," suggested Rassendyll. "Well, Rischenheim or Rupert
will be on his way by to-morrow morning, or is on his way
to-night."

Again I tried to rise, for I was on fire to prevent the fatal
consequences of my stupidity. Rudolf thrust me back in my chair,
saying, "No, no." Then he sat down at the table and took up the
telegraph forms.

"You and Sapt arranged a cipher, I suppose?" he asked.

"Yes. You write the message, and I'll put it into the cipher."

"This is what I've written: 'Document lost. Let nobody see him if
possible. Wire who asks.' I don't like to make it plainer: most
ciphers can be read, you know."

"Not ours," said I.

"Well, but will that do?" asked Rudolf, with an unconvinced
smile.

"Yes, I think he'll understand it." And I wrote it again in the
cipher; it was as much as I could do to hold the pen.