The cool morning air cleared my head, and I could take in all Sapt said to me. He was brilliant. Fritz barely talked, riding like a man snoozing, however Sapt, without another word for the King, started on the double to train me most minutely in the historical backdrop of my past life, of my family, of my tastes, interests, shortcomings, companions, sidekicks, and hirelings. He disclosed to me the decorum of the Ruritanian Court, promising to be always at my elbow to bring up everyone whom I should know, and give me indications with what level of support to welcome them. 

"Coincidentally," he stated, "you're a Catholic, I assume?" 

"Not I," I replied. 

"Ruler, he's a blasphemer!" moaned Sapt, and forthwith he tumbled to a simple lesson in the practices and observances of the Romish confidence. 

"Fortunately," said he, "you won't be required to know much, for the King's famously remiss and reckless about such issues. In any case, you should be as common as margarine to the Cardinal. We plan to prevail upon him, since he and Michael have a standing squabble about their priority." 

We were at this point at the station. Fritz had recuperated nerve enough to disclose to the bewildered station ace that the King had changed his designs. The prepare steamed up. We got into a top notch carriage, and Sapt, reclining on the pads, went ahead with his lesson. I checked the time - the King's watch it was, obviously. It was only eight. 

"I think about whether they've gone to search for us," I said. 

"I trust they won't discover the King," said Fritz apprehensively, and this time it was Sapt who shrugged his shoulders. 

The prepare voyaged well, and at half-past nine, watching out of the window, I saw the towers and towers of an awesome city. 

"Your capital, my master," smiled old Sapt, with an influx of his hand, and, inclining forward, he laid his finger on my heartbeat. "Excessively speedy," said he, in his protesting tone. 

"I'm not made of stone!" I shouted. 

"You'll do," said he, with a gesture. "We should state Fritz here has gotten the ague. Deplete your flagon, Fritz, for hell's sake, kid!" 

Fritz did as he was offered. 

"We're a hour early," said Sapt. "We'll send word forward for your Majesty's landing, for there'll be nobody here to meet us yet. 

What's more, in the interim - " 

"In the mean time," said I, "the King'll be hanged in the event that he doesn't have some breakfast." 

Old Sapt laughed, and held out his hand. 

"You're an Elphberg, every last trace of you," said he. At that point he stopped, and taking a gander at us, said unobtrusively, "God send we might be alive this evening!" 

"So be it!" said Fritz von Tarlenheim. 

The prepare ceased. Fritz and Sapt jumped out, revealed, and held the entryway for me. I forced down a knot that rose in my throat, settled my cap immovably on my head, and (I'm not afraid to state it) inhaled a short supplication to God. At that point I ventured on the stage of the station at Strelsau. 

After a minute, everything was clamor and disarray: men hustling just a bit, caps close by, and rushing off once more; men leading me to the smorgasbord; men mounting and riding in hot scurry to the quarters of the troops, to the Cathedral, to the home of Duke Michael. Indeed, even as I gulped the last drop of some espresso, the ringers all through all the city broke out into an upbeat chime, and the sound of a military band and of men cheering destroyed upon my ear. 

Ruler Rudolf the Fifth was in his great city of Strelsau! Also, they yelled outside- - 

"God spare the King!" 

Old Sapt's mouth wrinkled into a grin. 

"God spare them both!" he whispered. "Valor, fellow!" and I felt his hand press my knee.