"It will keep, sire," answered Sapt, who did not know but that it
might be from Wintenberg.

"Read it," insisted the king testily. "It may be from
Rischenheim. Perhaps he can get here sooner. I should like to
know about those dogs. Read it, I beg."

Sapt could do nothing but read it. He had taken to spectacles
lately, and he spent a long while adjusting them and thinking
what he should do if the message were not fit for the king's ear.
"Be quick, man, be quick!" urged the irritable king.

Sapt had got the envelope open at last, and relief, mingled with
perplexity, showed in his face.

"Your Majesty guessed wonderfully well. Rischenheim can be here
at eight to-morrow morning," he said, looking up.

"Capital!" cried the king. "He shall breakfast with me at nine,
and I'll have a ride after the boar when we've done our business.
Now are you satisfied?"

"Perfectly, sire," said Sapt, biting his moustache.

The king rose with a yawn, and bade the colonel good-night. "He
must have some trick I don't know with those dogs," he remarked,
as he went out. And "Damn the dogs!" cried Colonel Sapt the
moment that the door was shut behind his Majesty.

But the colonel was not a man to accept defeat easily. The