Rassendyll. By Heaven! I feel my head wobbling on my shoulders every
minute you're in the city. Do you know, friend, that Michael has had
news from Zenda? He went into a room alone to read it--and he came out
looking like a man dazed."

"I'm ready," said I, this news making me none the more eager to linger.

Sapt sat down.

"I must write us an order to leave the city. Michael's Governor, you
know, and we must be prepared for hindrances. You must sign the order."

"My dear colonel, I've not been bred a forger!"

Out of his pocket Sapt produced a piece of paper.

"There's the King's signature," he said, "and here," he went on, after
another search in his pocket, "is some tracing paper. If you can't
manage a 'Rudolf' in ten minutes, why--I can."

"Your education has been more comprehensive than mine," said I. "You
write it."

And a very tolerable forgery did this versatile hero produce.

"Now, Fritz," said he, "the King goes to bed. He is upset. No one is to
see him till nine o'clock tomorrow. You understand--no one?"

"I understand," answered Fritz.