not understood, awoke their caution. Good Samaritans but not men of war, they returned to where I lay senseless on the ground, congratulating themselves and me that an enemy so well armed should run and not stand his ground. They forced a drink of rough wine down my throat, and in a minute or two I opened my eyes. They were for carrying me to a hospital. I would have none of it. As soon as things grew clear to me again and I knew where I was, I did nothing but repeat in urgent tones: "The Golden Lion, the Golden Lion! Twenty crowns to carry me to the Golden Lion!"
Perceiving that I knew my own business and where I wished to go, one picked up my handbag and the rest hoisted me into their waggon and set out for the hotel where Rudolf Rassendyll was. The one thought my broken head held was to get to him as soon as might be, and tell him how I had been fool enough to let myself be robbed of the Queen's letter.
He was there. He stood on the threshold of the inn, waiting for me, as it seemed, although it was not yet the hour of my appointment. As they drew me up to the door I saw his tall straight figure and his red hair by the light of the hall lamps. By heaven, I felt as a lost child must on sight of his mother! I stretched out my hand
