With Fritz von Tarlenheim and Colonel Sapt close behind me, I stepped
out of the buffet on to the platform. The last thing I did was to feel
if my revolver were handy and my sword loose in the scabbard. A gay
group of officers and high dignitaries stood awaiting me, at their head
a tall old man, covered with medals, and of military bearing. He wore
the yellow and red ribbon of the Red Rose of Ruritania--which, by the
way, decorated my unworthy breast also.

"Marshal Strakencz," whispered Sapt, and I knew that I was in the
presence of the most famous veteran of the Ruritanian army.

Just behind the Marshal stood a short spare man, in flowing robes of
black and crimson.

"The Chancellor of the Kingdom," whispered Sapt.

The Marshal greeted me in a few loyal words, and proceeded to deliver
an apology from the Duke of Strelsau. The duke, it seemed, had been
afflicted with a sudden indisposition which made it impossible for him
to come to the station, but he craved leave to await his Majesty at the
Cathedral. I expressed my concern, accepted the Marshal's excuses very
suavely, and received the compliments of a large number of distinguished
personages. No one betrayed the least suspicion, and I felt my nerve
returning and the agitated beating of my heart subsiding. But Fritz
was still pale, and his hand shook like a leaf as he extended it to the
Marshal.

Presently we formed procession and took our way to the door of the
station. Here I mounted my horse, the Marshal holding my stirrup. The
civil dignitaries went off to their carriages, and I started to ride