If there were no attempt being made to conceal the king's death, Rupert's plan was to seek safety in flight.

He did not abandon his designs: from the secure vantage of foreign soil he would hold the queen's letter over her head, and by the threat of publishing it insure at once immunity for himself and almost any further terms which he chose to exact from her.

If, on the other hand, the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim found a king in Strelsau, if the royal standards continued to wave at the summit of their flag staffs, and Strelsau knew nothing of the dead man in the lodge, then Rupert had laid his hand on another secret; for he knew who the king in Strelsau must be.

Starting from this point, his audacious mind darted forward to new and bolder schemes.

He could offer again to Rudolf Rassendyll what he had offered once before, three years ago--a partnership in crime and the profits of crime--or if this advance were refused, then he declared that he would himself descend openly into the streets of Strelsau and proclaim the death of the king from the steps of the cathedral.
"Who can tell," he cried, springing up, enraptured and merry with the inspiration of his plan, "who can tell whether Sapt or I came first to the lodge?
Who found the king alive, Sapt or I?
Who left him dead, Sapt or I?
Who had most interest in killing him--I, who only sought to make him aware of what touched his honor, or Sapt, who was and is hand and glove with the man that now robs him of his name and usurps his place while his body is still warm?
Ah, they haven't done with Rupert of Hentzau yet!" He stopped, looking down on his companion.