She leaned forward quickly, kissed him on the lips, and then hurried from the coach. Finn stared after her for a long time before he directed the coachman to drive back to the palace.
Sapt and von Tarlenheim were waiting for him. Both men had dressed in dark-hued clothing, the better to provide concealment in the night. Von Tarlenheim tried once more, unsuccessfully, to dissuade him from keeping the mysterious appointment, then resigned himself to the inevitable. Finn quickly changed into clothing similar to theirs and they left by the secret passageway. Sapt pressed a revolver into Finn’s hand.
“Do not hesitate to use this if you find you must,” said Sapt. “Remember, if we lose you, then we lose everything.”
Finn took the revolver with a smile. “Thank you for your concern,” he said, laconically.
“Don’t be a fool,” said Sapt. “You know damn well what I mean. Our first concern is for the throne, as it must be, but I would not wish to lose a friend, as well.”
They rode on horseback to Michael’s house, reining in a short distance away from the wall that circled the estate.
“This is as far as you two go with me,” said Finn. “If all goes well, I shall return shortly and we will ride to Zenda.”
“And if not?” said von Tarlenheim, nervously.
“I promise to be careful. But just in case, you have your watch?”
“Right here.”
“If I do not return in half an hour, then you can assume the worst,” said Finn. “It will then be up to you to free the king.”
“Come what may,” said Sapt, “we make our move tonight. Good fortune to you.”
Finn dismounted and crossed the street, heading for the entrance that the letter specified. He felt very much alone. Taking a chance, he tried raising Lucas and Andre on his comset. From where he was, the safehouse was within range, but there was no response. He nodded to himself. All right, then, they were proceeding on their own, as he had thought they would. The Timekeepers had to be their first concern. He did not like not being able to contact them, but it was just as well. His had now become the secondary role in the mission. Theirs was far more difficult. They would be at Zenda Castle, trying to find a way to get inside. Perhaps they were making their move at this very moment. If he was lucky, they might complete their part of the mission by the time that he arrived with von Tarlenheim and Sapt. Then they could provide him with a backup if the need arose. If not… he decided not to think about if not.
It was dark and quiet in the garden, the only sounds coming from the crickets in the flower beds. Keeping to the side of the wall, he avoided the pathway, circling round to where he could see the little summerhouse. Sapt had briefed him on the layout. If Michael wanted to trap him here, he could not have picked a better spot. On the other hand, though he was sure it was a trap, it might not be Michael who had set it. On the chance that it was Falcon, he had to walk into it. He had seen her twice now and been helpless to act both times. The third time, he swore, would be the last.
He sank down to his knees, then sprawled flat on the ground, lying on his belly. It was thoughtful of Sapt to have provided him with a revolver, but he preferred the silence of the laser. He held it in his hand, ready to fire. Slowly, he crawled forward across the open space that separated the garden wall from the gazebo, approaching the small structure from the side, where its latticed wall would at least impede the visibility of anyone who might be inside. Assuming, of course, that anyone was in there waiting for him. If not, then he would not go in. Either way, the gazebo would be an easy target, especially to someone equipped with a night scope.
As he crawled forward, coming closer, he saw the glow of a cigarette inside the summerhouse. He frowned. Surely they would not be that sloppy, unless it was meant for him to see, to decoy him into a false sense of security. He was tempted to take a shot, but that would pinpoint his location to anyone who might be watching. He crept closer. He was beginning to sweat. A match flared briefly and he saw that it was Hentzau, leaning casually against the arched entrance of the summerhouse and smoking. He was close enough now that if he whispered, Hentzau would hear him. He spoke his name, once, softly.
Hentzau started slightly, peering out into the darkness. “Hello? Is that you, play-actor? Show yourself.”
“And be shot for my trouble?” Finn said, moving immediately as he spoke.
Hentzau chuckled. “You’re safe enough, Your Majesty,” he said, sarcastically. “I merely wish to speak with you. There is no one else about. They have all departed for the castle. Save for the servants in the house, you and I are quite alone.”
Finn hesitated.
“Look, I assume that you have not come unarmed,” said Hentzau. “You could shoot me easily. Come, man, where are you?”
Finn bit his lower lip. What the hell, he thought, if you’re going to step into a trap, step into it. He stood, tensely, prepared to leap at once to either side.
“Ah, there you are,” said Hentzau. “Not very kingly, creeping about like that.”
“Was it you who sent the letter?” Finn said, putting the laser away and holding the revolver Sapt had given him so that Hentzau could see it. He looked at it without concern.
“You would not shoot me,” he said. He spread his arms out away from his sides. “You see, I am unarmed. Not even a sword. I left it in the house. Surely, an English gentleman would not slay an unarmed man?”
“Don’t bet on it,” said Finn. “I find the temptation very difficult to resist.”
“Do you? Well then, if you can manage to resist it for the next few moments, I have a proposition I would make to you. The duke offers you a million crowns and safe conduct across the frontier. What do you say to that?”
“That isn’t even a temptation,” Finn said.
“You refuse?”
“Of course.”
Hentzau grinned. “I told Michael that you would. I said that you would never trust him. Cigarette?”
“No, thank you.”
“As you will. Only trying to be friendly.”
“No need to try.”
“Has His Majesty done me the honor to fasten a particular quarrel on me?” said Hentzau, mockingly.
“You hardly seem worth the bother,” Finn said. “How is the king?”
“Alive,” said Hentzau. “For the time being, at least. Look here, I’ve made you a proposal from the duke, now hear one from me. Attack the castle boldly. Let Sapt and von Tarlenheim lead. Arrange the time with me.”
“I have such confidence in you,” Finn said, wryly.
“Tut, I’m talking business now. Sapt and von Tarlenheim will fall. Michael shall fall, as well. You can leave that to me. The king will take a short swim to the bottom of the moat and two men will be left-I, Rupert Hentzau, and you, the King of Ruritania. Think it over, play-actor. You could extend your tour indefinitely. Wouldn’t that be a hand to play? A throne and a pretty princess for yourself and for me, say, some small compensation out of His Majesty’s gratitude? This house, for example, and the chateau would do quite nicely.”
“I admire your loyalty to Michael,” Finn said.
“Loyalty is an admirable attribute,” said Hentzau. “In a hound. So long as my own interest can be served, what care I which side I throw in with? Consider the opportunity, Rassendyll. When will you ever get another such as this?”
“Where does the countess stand in all of this?” said Finn.
“Ah, you have deduced, of course, that she is with us,” Hentzau said. “A most fascinating woman, Countess Sophia is. The stories I could tell you…”