"
"My dear colonel, I've not been bred a forger!"
Out of his pocket Sapt produced a piece of paper.
"There's the King's signature," he said, "and here," he went on, after
another search in his pocket, "is some tracing paper. If you can't
manage a 'Rudolf' in ten minutes, why--I can."
"Your education has been more comprehensive than mine," said I. "You
write it."
And a very tolerable forgery did this versatile hero produce.
"Now, Fritz," said he, "the King goes to bed. He is upset. No one is to
see him till nine o'clock tomorrow. You understand--no one?"
"I understand," answered Fritz.
"Michael may come, and claim immediate audience. You'll answer that only
princes of the blood are entitled to it."
"That'll annoy Michael," laughed Fritz.
"You quite understand?" asked Sapt again. "If the door of this room is
opened while we're away, you're not to be alive to tell us about it."
"I need no schooling, colonel," said Fritz, a trifle haughtily.
"Here, wrap yourself in this big cloak," Sapt continued to me, "and
put on this flat cap. My orderly rides with me to the hunting-lodge
tonight."
"There's an obstacle," I observed. "The horse doesn't live that can
carry me forty miles."
"Oh, yes, he does--two of him: one here--one at the lodge.
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