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CHAPTER 5 The Adventures of an Understudy With Fritz von Tarlenheim and Colonel Sapt close behind me, I stepped out of the buffet on to the platform.  The last thing I did was to feel if my revolver were handy and my sword loose in the scabbard.  A gay group of officers and high dignitaries stood awaiting me, at their head a tall old man, covered with medals, and of military bearing.  He wore the yellow and red ribbon of the Red Rose of Ruritania-which, by the way, decorated my unworthy breast also. “Marshal Strakencz,” whispered Sapt, and I knew that I was in the presence of the most famous veteran of the Ruritanian army. Just behind the Marshal stood a short spare man, in flowing robes of black and crimson. “The Chancellor of the Kingdom,” whispered Sapt. The Marshal greeted me in a few loyal words, and proceeded to deliver an apology from the Duke of Strelsau.  The duke, it seemed, had been afflicted with a sudden indisposition which made it impossible for him

CHAPTER 4 The King Keeps His Appointment Whether I had slept a minute or a year I knew not.  I awoke with a start and a shiver; my face, hair and clothes dripped water, and opposite me stood old Sapt, a sneering smile on his face and an empty bucket in his hand.  On the table by him sat Fritz von Tarlenheim, pale as a ghost and black as a crow under the eyes. I leapt to my feet in anger. “Your joke goes too far, sir!” I cried. “Tut, man, we’ve no time for quarrelling.  Nothing else would rouse you.  It’s five o’clock.” “I’ll thank you, Colonel Sapt-” I began again, hot in spirit, though I was uncommonly cold in body. “Rassendyll,” interrupted Fritz, getting down from the table and taking my arm, “look here.” The King lay full length on the floor.  His face was red as his hair, and he breathed heavily.  Sapt, the disrespectful old dog, kicked him sharply.  He did not stir, nor was there any break in his breathing.  I saw that his face and head were wet with wat

CHAPTER 3 A Merry Evening with a Distant Relative I was not so unreasonable as to be prejudiced against the duke’s keeper because he disliked my complexion; and if I had been, his most civil and obliging conduct (as it seemed to me to be) next morning would have disarmed me.  Hearing that I was bound for Strelsau, he came to see me while I was breakfasting, and told me that a sister of his who had married a well-to-do tradesman and lived in the capital, had invited him to occupy a room in her house.  He had gladly accepted, but now found that his duties would not permit of his absence.  He begged therefore that, if such humble (though, as he added, clean and comfortable) lodgings would satisfy me, I would take his place.  He pledged his sister’s acquiescence, and urged the inconvenience and crowding to which I should be subject in my journeys to and from Strelsau the next day.  I accepted his offer without a moment’s hesitation, and he went off to telegraph to his sister,

CHAPTER 2 Concerning the Colour of Men’s Hair It was a maxim of my Uncle William’s that no man should pass through Paris without spending four-and-twenty hours there.  My uncle spoke out of a ripe experience of the world, and I honoured his advice by putting up for a day and a night at “The Continental” on my way to-the Tyrol.  I called on George Featherly at the Embassy, and we had a bit of dinner together at Durand’s, and afterwards dropped in to the Opera; and after that we had a little supper, and after that we called on Bertram Bertrand, a versifier of some repute and Paris correspondent to The Critic.  He had a very comfortable suite of rooms, and we found some pleasant fellows smoking and talking.  It struck me, however, that Bertram himself was absent and in low spirits, and when everybody except ourselves had gone, I rallied him on his moping preoccupation.  He fenced with me for a while, but at last, flinging himself on a sofa, he exclaimed:  “Very well; have