Thus the Princess Flavia came to Zenda. And as she drove up the hill, with the Marshal riding by the wheel and still imploring her to return in obedience to the King’s orders, Fritz von Tarlenheim, with the prisoner of Zenda, came to the edge of the forest. I had revived from my swoon, and walked, resting on Fritz’s arm; and looking out from the cover of the trees, I saw the princess. Suddenly understanding from a glance at my companion’s face that we must not meet her, I sank on my knees behind a clump of bushes. But there was one whom we had forgotten, but who followed us, and was not disposed to let slip the chance of earning a smile and maybe a crown or two; and, while we lay hidden, the little farm- girl came by us and ran to the princess, curtseying and crying:

“Madame, the King is here—in the bushes! May I guide you to him, madame?”

“Nonsense, child!” said old Strakencz; “the King lies wounded in the Castle.”

“Yes, sir, he’s wounded, I know; but he’s there—with Count Fritz—and not at the Castle,” she persisted.

“Is he in two places, or are there two Kings?” asked Flavia, bewildered. “And how should he be there?”

“He pursued a gentleman, madame, and they fought till Count Fritz came; and the other gentleman took my father’s horse from me and rode away; but the King is here with Count Fritz. Why, madame, is there another man in Ruritania like the King?”

“No, my child,” said Flavia softly (I was told it afterwards), and she smiled and gave the girl money. “I will go and see this gentleman,” and she rose to alight from the carriage.

But at this moment Sapt came riding from the Castle, and, seeing the princess, made the best of a bad job, and cried to her that the King was well tended and in no danger.

“In the Castle?” she asked.

“Where else, madame?” said he, bowing.

“But this girl says he is yonder—with Count Fritz.”

Sapt turned his eyes on the child with an incredulous smile.

“Every fine gentleman is a King to such,” said he.

“Why, he’s as like the King as one pea to another, madame!” cried the girl, a little shaken but still obstinate.

Sapt started round. The old Marshal’s face asked unspoken questions. Flavia’s glance was no less eloquent. Suspicion spread quick.

“I’ll ride myself and see this man,” said Sapt hastily.

“Nay, I’ll come myself,” said the princess.

“Then come alone,” he whispered.

And she, obedient to the strange hinting in his face, prayed the Marshal and the rest to wait; and she and Sapt came on foot towards where we lay, Sapt waving to the farm-girl to keep at a distance. And when I saw them coming, I sat in a sad heap on the ground, and buried my face in my hands. I could not look at her. Fritz knelt by me, laying his hand on my shoulder.

“Speak low, whatever you say,” I heard Sapt whisper as they came up; and the next thing I heard was a low cry—half of joy, half of fear—from the princess:

“It is he! Are you hurt?”