James went out. In a few minutes he was back, with water, basin, towels, and bandages. Bending over me, he began to wash and tend my wound very deftly. Rudolf was walking up and down.
"Done the head, James?" he asked, after a few moments.
"Yes, sir," answered the servant, gathering together his appliances.
"Telegraph forms, then."
James went out, and was back with the forms in an instant.
"Be ready when I ring," said Rudolf. And he added, turning to me, "Any easier, Fritz?"
"I can listen to you now," I said.
"I see their game," said he. "One or other of them—Rupert or this Rischenheim—will try to get to the King with the letter."
I sprang to my feet.
"They mustn't!" I cried; and I reeled back into my chair, with a feeling as if a red-hot poker were being run through my head.
"Much you can do to stop 'em, old fellow," smiled Rudolf, pausing to press my hand as he went by. "They won't trust the post, you know. One will go. Now which?" He stood facing me with a thoughtful frown on his face.
I did not know, but I thought that Rischenheim would go. It was a great risk for
