The Prisoner of Zenda [38]
they'll recognize you?"
"Well, of course they will. Now, don't argue, my good fellow, but listen to me. We're two gentlemen of the King's household, and one of us has a toothache. The other will order a private room and dinner, and, further, a bottle of the best wine for the sufferer. And if he be as clever a fellow as I take him for, the pretty girl and no other will wait on us."
"What if she won't?" objected Fritz.
"My dear Fritz," said I, "if she won't for you, she will for me."
We were at the inn. Nothing of me but my eyes was visible as I walked in. The landlady received us; two minutes later, my little friend (ever, I fear me, on the look-out for such guests as might prove amusing) made her appearance. Dinner and the wine were ordered. I sat down in the private room. A minute later Fritz came in.
"She's coming," he said.
"If she were not, I should have to doubt the Countess Helga's taste."
She came in. I gave her time to set the wine down--I didn't want it dropped. Fritz poured out a glass and gave it to me.
"Is the gentleman in great pain?" the girl asked, sympathetically.
"The gentleman is no worse than when he saw you last," said I, throwing away my cloak.
She started, with a little shriek. Then she cried:
"It was the King, then! I told mother so the moment I saw his picture. Oh, sir, forgive me!"
"Faith, you gave me nothing that hurt much," said I.
"But the things we said!"
"I forgive them for the thing you did."
"I must go and tell mother."
"Stop," said I, assuming a graver air. "We are not here for sport tonight. Go and bring dinner, and not a word of the King being here."
She came back in a few minutes, looking grave, yet very curious.
"Well, how is Johann?" I asked, beginning my dinner.
"Oh, that fellow, sir--my lord King, I mean!"
""Sir" will do, please. How is he?"
"We hardly see him now, sir."
"And why not?"
"I told him he came too often, sir," said she, tossing her head.
"So he sulks and stays away?"
"Yes, sir."
"But you could bring him back?" I suggested with a smile.
"Perhaps I could," said she.
"I know your powers, you see," said I, and she blushed with pleasure.
"It's not only that, sir, that keeps him away. He's very busy at the Castle."
"But there's no shooting on now."
"No, sir; but he's in charge of the house."
"Johann turned housemaid?"
The little girl was brimming over with gossip.
"Well, there are no others," said she. "There's not a woman there-- not as a servant, I mean. They do say--but perhaps it's false, sir."
"Let's have it for what it's worth," said I.
"Indeed, I'm ashamed to tell you, sir."
"Oh, see, I'm looking at the ceiling."
"They do say there is a lady there, sir; but, except for her, there's not a woman in the place. And Johann has to wait on the gentlemen."
"Poor Johann! He must be overworked. Yet I'm sure he could find half an hour to come and see you."
"It would depend on the time, sir, perhaps."
"Do you love him?" I asked.
"Not I, sir."
"And you wish to serve the King?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then tell him to meet you at the second milestone out of Zenda tomorrow evening at ten o'clock. Say you'll be there and will walk home with him."
"Do you mean him harm, sir?"
"Not if he will do as I bid him. But I think I've told you enough, my pretty maid. See that you do as I bid you. And, mind, no one is to know that the King has been here."
I spoke a little sternly, for there is seldom harm in infusing a little fear into a woman's liking for you, and I softened the effect by giving her a handsome present. Then we dined, and, wrapping my cloak about my face, with Fritz leading the way, we went downstairs to our horses again.
It was but half-past eight, and hardly yet dark; the streets were full for such a quiet little place, and I could see that gossip was all agog. With the King on one side and the duke on the other, Zenda felt itself the centre of all Ruritania. We jogged gently through the town, but set our horses to a
"Well, of course they will. Now, don't argue, my good fellow, but listen to me. We're two gentlemen of the King's household, and one of us has a toothache. The other will order a private room and dinner, and, further, a bottle of the best wine for the sufferer. And if he be as clever a fellow as I take him for, the pretty girl and no other will wait on us."
"What if she won't?" objected Fritz.
"My dear Fritz," said I, "if she won't for you, she will for me."
We were at the inn. Nothing of me but my eyes was visible as I walked in. The landlady received us; two minutes later, my little friend (ever, I fear me, on the look-out for such guests as might prove amusing) made her appearance. Dinner and the wine were ordered. I sat down in the private room. A minute later Fritz came in.
"She's coming," he said.
"If she were not, I should have to doubt the Countess Helga's taste."
She came in. I gave her time to set the wine down--I didn't want it dropped. Fritz poured out a glass and gave it to me.
"Is the gentleman in great pain?" the girl asked, sympathetically.
"The gentleman is no worse than when he saw you last," said I, throwing away my cloak.
She started, with a little shriek. Then she cried:
"It was the King, then! I told mother so the moment I saw his picture. Oh, sir, forgive me!"
"Faith, you gave me nothing that hurt much," said I.
"But the things we said!"
"I forgive them for the thing you did."
"I must go and tell mother."
"Stop," said I, assuming a graver air. "We are not here for sport tonight. Go and bring dinner, and not a word of the King being here."
She came back in a few minutes, looking grave, yet very curious.
"Well, how is Johann?" I asked, beginning my dinner.
"Oh, that fellow, sir--my lord King, I mean!"
""Sir" will do, please. How is he?"
"We hardly see him now, sir."
"And why not?"
"I told him he came too often, sir," said she, tossing her head.
"So he sulks and stays away?"
"Yes, sir."
"But you could bring him back?" I suggested with a smile.
"Perhaps I could," said she.
"I know your powers, you see," said I, and she blushed with pleasure.
"It's not only that, sir, that keeps him away. He's very busy at the Castle."
"But there's no shooting on now."
"No, sir; but he's in charge of the house."
"Johann turned housemaid?"
The little girl was brimming over with gossip.
"Well, there are no others," said she. "There's not a woman there-- not as a servant, I mean. They do say--but perhaps it's false, sir."
"Let's have it for what it's worth," said I.
"Indeed, I'm ashamed to tell you, sir."
"Oh, see, I'm looking at the ceiling."
"They do say there is a lady there, sir; but, except for her, there's not a woman in the place. And Johann has to wait on the gentlemen."
"Poor Johann! He must be overworked. Yet I'm sure he could find half an hour to come and see you."
"It would depend on the time, sir, perhaps."
"Do you love him?" I asked.
"Not I, sir."
"And you wish to serve the King?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then tell him to meet you at the second milestone out of Zenda tomorrow evening at ten o'clock. Say you'll be there and will walk home with him."
"Do you mean him harm, sir?"
"Not if he will do as I bid him. But I think I've told you enough, my pretty maid. See that you do as I bid you. And, mind, no one is to know that the King has been here."
I spoke a little sternly, for there is seldom harm in infusing a little fear into a woman's liking for you, and I softened the effect by giving her a handsome present. Then we dined, and, wrapping my cloak about my face, with Fritz leading the way, we went downstairs to our horses again.
It was but half-past eight, and hardly yet dark; the streets were full for such a quiet little place, and I could see that gossip was all agog. With the King on one side and the duke on the other, Zenda felt itself the centre of all Ruritania. We jogged gently through the town, but set our horses to a