Page:The Prisoner of Zenda.djvu/168

150 "Be that my epitaph," said I, "when the time come that another sits on the throne of Ruritania."

"God send a far day, and may I not see it!" said he.

I was much moved, and the marshal's worn face twitched. I sat down and wrote my order.

"I can hardly yet write," said I; "my finger is stiff still."

It was, in fact, the first time that I had ventured to write more than a signature; and, in spite of the pains I had taken to learn the king's hand, I was not yet perfect in it.

"Indeed, sire," he said, "it differs a little from your ordinary handwriting. It is unfortunate, for it may lead to a suspicion of forgery."

"Marshal," said I, with a laugh, "what use are the guns of Strelsau if they can't assuage a little suspicion?"

He smiled grimly and took the paper.

"Colonel Sapt and Fritz von Tarlenheim go with me," I continued.

"You go to seek the duke?" he asked in a low tone.