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THE PRISONER OF ZENDA.

keeper, and body servant to his Highness. They were up to us; the duke reined up. I saw Sapt's finger curl lovingly toward the trigger. I believe he would have given ten years of his life for a shot; and he could have picked off Black Michael as easily as I could a barn-door fowl in a farmyard. I laid my hand on his arm. He nodded reassuringly; he was always ready to sacrifice inclination to duty.

"Which way?" asked Black Michael.

"To the castle, your Highness," urged his companion. "There we shall learn the truth."

For an instant the duke hesitated.

"I thought I heard hoofs," said he.

"I think not, your Highness."

"Why shouldn't we go to the lodge?"

"I fear a trap. If all is well, why go to the lodge? If not, it's a snare to trap us."

Suddenly the duke's horse neighed. In an instant we folded our cloaks close round our horses' heads, and, holding them thus, covered the duke and his attendant with our revolvers. If they had found us they had been dead men, or our prisoners.