acted on him like a draught of good wine on a seasoned drinker.
He was not only himself, but more than himself: his excellences
enhanced, the indolence that marred him in quiet hours sloughed
off. But to-day there was something more; I can only describe it
as a kind of radiance. I have seen it on the faces of young
sparks when the lady they love comes through the ball-room door,
and I have seen it glow more softly in a girl's eyes when some
fellow who seemed to me nothing out of the ordinary asked her for
a dance. That strange gleam was on Rudolf's face as he stood by
my bedside. I dare say it used to be on mine when I went
courting.

"Fritz, old friend," said he, "there's an answer from Sapt. I'll
lay the telegraph offices were stirred in Zenda as well as James
stirred them here in Wintenberg! And what do you think?
Rischenheim asked for an audience before he left Strelsau."

I raised myself on my elbow in the bed.

"You understand?" he went on. "He left on Monday. To-day's
Wednesday. The king has granted him an audience at four on
Friday. Well, then--"

"They counted on success," I cried, "and Rischenheim takes the
letter!"

"A copy, if I know Rupert of Hentzau. Yes, it was well laid. I
like the men taking all the cabs! How much ahead had they, now."

I did not know that, though I had no more doubt than he that