Page:The Prisoner of Zenda.djvu/45

Rh pointed imperial I was to be transformed into a monarch! I was about to kiss the princess again when I arrived (very reluctantly) at the conclusion that I was awake.

I opened my eyes, and found two men regarding me with much curiosity. Both wore shooting costumes and carried guns. One was rather short and very stoutly built, with a big bullet-shaped head, a bristly gray mustache, and small, pale-blue eyes, a trifle bloodshot. The other was a slender young fellow, of middle height, dark in complexion, and bearing himself with grace and distinction. I set the one down as an old soldier; the other for a gentleman accustomed to move in good society, but not unused to military life either. It turned out afterward that my guess was a good one.

The elder man approached me, beckoning the younger to follow. He did so, courteously raising Ms hat. I rose to my feet.

"He's the height, too!" I heard the elder murmur as he surveyed my six feet two inches of stature. Then, with a cavalier touch of the cap, he addressed me: