The streets were even quieter than when we had gone: everyone was sleeping off last night's revelry, and we met hardly a soul till we reached the little gate of the Palace.

There Sapt's old groom was waiting for us.
"Is all well, sir ?" he asked.
"All's well," said Sapt, and the man, coming to me, took my hand to kiss.
"The King's hurt!" he cried.
"It's nothing," said I, as I dismounted; "I caught my finger in the door." "Remember--silence!" said Sapt.

"Ah! but, my good Freyler, I do not need to tell you that!" The old fellow shrugged his shoulders.
"All young men like to ride abroad now and again, why not the King ?" said he; and Sapt's laugh left his opinion of my motives undisturbed.
"You should always trust a man," observed Sapt, fitting the key in the lock, "just as far as you must." We went in and reached the dressing-room.

Flinging open the door, we saw Fritz von Tarlenheim stretched, fully dressed, on the sofa.

He seemed to have been sleeping, but our entry woke him.