The National tribune., 1906-11-15

thing. Why, you might become an En-
| bassador"'
Il don't think I want to be an EN-
| bassador,"i said l.
| ITS more than you ever will be-
she retorted.
That is very likely true, but it is not
more than L have been. The idea of
being an ambassador could scarcely
dazzle mel 1 had been King!
So pretty Rose left us in dudgeon;
and Burlesden, lighting q cigaret, look
ed at me still with that curious gaze.
THAT picture in the paper he said.
well, what of it? 1t shows that the
King of Ruritania and your humble
servant are as like as two peas"
My brother shook his head.
| II supposeiso" he said. But should
know you from the man in the photo
graph
"And not from the picture in the
paper?"
Il should know the photograph from
the picture; the pictures very like the
photograph, but"
"Well?"
ITS more like you," said my BROTH
er.
My brother is Il good man and true
so that, for all that he is a married
man and mighty fond of his wife, he
should know any secret of mine. But
this secret was not mine, and L could
not tell it to him.
Il don't think it's so much like me
as the photograph" said boldly. But,
anyhow Bob, l won't go to Strelsau."
NO. don't so to Strelsau, Rudolf"
said he.
And whether he suspects anything
or has glimmer of the truth / do not
know. If he has he keeps it to HIM
self, and he and / never refer to It,
And we let Sir Jacob Borrodaile find
another attache.
Since all these events whose history
have set Down happened l have lived
very quiet life at n small house which
l have taken in the country. The or
dinary ambitions and aims of men in
my position seem to me dull and un-
attractive. I have little fancy for the
whirl of society, and none for the iostle
of politics. Lady Burlesdon utterly de-
spairs of me; my neighbors think me
an indolent, dreamy, unsociable fellow.
Y ct L am q young man: and sometimes
l have fancy-the superstitious would
call it a presentiment-that my part in
life Is not yet altogether played: that,
somehow and some day L shall mix
again in great affairs, 1 shall again spin
policies in a busy brain, match my wits
against my enemes', brace my muscle
to fight a good fight and strike stout
blows. Such is the tissue of my
thoughts as with gun or rod in hand ]
of the stream. Whether the fancy viii
be fulfilled I cannot teIl-still less
whether the scene that. led by memory,
I lay for my new exploits will be tho
true one-for / love to see myself once
again in the crowded streets of Strel-
sau, or beneath the frowning keep of
the castle of Zenda.
Thus led my broodings leave the fu-
ture. and turn back on the past Shapes
rise before me in long array-the wild
first revel with the King, the rush with
my brave tea table. the night in the
moat, the pursuit in the forest; my
friends and my foes, the people who
learned to love and honor me, the des-
Derate men who tried to kill me. And,
from amid these last, comes one who
alone of all of them yet moves on earth
though where 7 know not, yet plans
(as l do not doubt) wickedness, yet
turns women's hearts to softness and
mems to fear and hate. Where is young
Rupert of Hentsau-the boy who came
so night to beating me? When his
name comes into my head I feel my
hand grip and the blood move quicker
through my veins; and the hint of
Fate-the preseutimcnt-seems to grow
stronger and more definite, and to-
whisper insistcntly in my ear that i
have yet hand to play with young
arms. and seek to put off the day when
the vigor of youth must leave me.
One break comes every year in my
quiet life. Then | go TO Dresden and
there / am met by my dear friend and
companion. Fritz Won Tarlenheim. Last
time his pretty wife Helga came, and
a lusty growing baby with her. And
for a week Fritz and I are together,
and hear all of what falls out in Strel-