drawing the battered door close after me. For ten minutes or more we sat
silent in the dining-room. Then old Sapt rubbed his knuckles into his
eyes, gave one great gasp, and was himself again. As the clock on the
mantelpiece struck one he stamped his foot on the floor, saying:

"They've got the King!"

"Yes," said I, "'all's well!' as Black Michael's despatch said. What
a moment it must have been for him when the royal salutes fired at
Strelsau this morning! I wonder when he got the message?"

"It must have been sent in the morning," said Sapt. "They must have sent
it before news of your arrival at Strelsau reached Zenda--I suppose it
came from Zenda."

"And he's carried it about all day!" I exclaimed. "Upon my honour, I'm
not the only man who's had a trying day! What did he think, Sapt?"

"What does that matter? What does he think, lad, now?"

I rose to my feet.

"We must get back," I said, "and rouse every soldier in Strelsau. We
ought to be in pursuit of Michael before midday."

Old Sapt pulled out his pipe and carefully lit it from the candle which
guttered on the table.

"The King may be murdered while we sit here!" I urged.