Fix transcription errors

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@@ -104,7 +104,7 @@
 			<p>Carried away, I cried loudly:</p>
 			<p>“As God lives, I⁠—yes, I myself⁠—will see you once more before I die!”</p>
 			<p>“What do you mean?” she exclaimed, with wondering eyes; but I had no answer for her, and she gazed at me with her wondering eyes.</p>
-			<p>I dared not ask her to forget, she would have found it an insult. I could not tell her then who and what I was. She was weeping, and I had but to dry her tears.</p>
+			<p>I dared not ask her to forget; she would have found it an insult. I could not tell her then who and what I was. She was weeping, and I had but to dry her tears.</p>
 			<p>“Shall a man not come back to the loveliest lady in all the wide world?” said I. “A thousand Michaels should not keep me from you!”</p>
 			<p>She clung to me, a little comforted.</p>
 			<p>“You won’t let Michael hurt you?”</p>

src/epub/text/chapter-13.xhtml

@@ -56,7 +56,7 @@
 			<p>Below the level of the ground in the castle, approached by a flight of stone steps which abutted on the end of the drawbridge, were situated two small rooms, cut out of the rock itself. The outer of the two had no windows, but was always lighted with candles; the inner had one square window, which gave upon the moat. In the outer room there lay always, day and night, three of the Six; and the instructions of Duke Michael were, that on any attack being made on the outer room, the three were to defend the door of it so long as they could without risk to themselves. But, so soon as the door should be in danger of being forced, then Rupert Hentzau or Detchard (for one of these two was always there) should leave the others to hold it as long as they could, and himself pass into the inner room, and, without more ado, kill the king who lay there, well treated indeed, but without weapons, and with his arms confined in fine steel chains, which did not allow him to move his elbow more than three inches from his side. Thus, before the outer door were stormed, the king would be dead. And his body? For his body would be evidence as damning as himself.</p>
 			<p>“Nay, sir,” said Johann, “his Highness has thought of that. While the two hold the outer room, the one who has killed the king unlocks the bars in the square window (they turn on a hinge). The window now gives no light, for its mouth is choked by a great pipe of earthenware; and this pipe, which is large enough to let pass through it the body of a man, passes into the moat, coming to an end immediately above the surface of the water, so that there is no perceptible interval between water and pipe. The king being dead, his murderer swiftly ties a weight to the body, and, dragging it to the window, raises it by a pulley (for, lest the weight should prove too great, Detchard has provided one) till it is level with the mouth of the pipe. He inserts the feet in the pipe, and pushes the body down. Silently, without splash or sound, it falls into the water and thence to the bottom of the moat, which is twenty feet deep thereabouts. This done, the murderer cries loudly, ‘All’s well!’ and himself slides down the pipe; and the others, if they can and the attack is not too hot, run to the inner room and, seeking a moment’s delay, bar the door, and in their turn slide down. And though the king rises not from the bottom, they rise and swim round to the other side, where the orders are for men to wait them with ropes, to haul them out, and horses. And here, if things go ill, the duke will join them and seek safety by riding; but if all goes well, they will return to the castle, and have their enemies in a trap. That, sir, is the plan of his Highness for the disposal of the king in case of need. But it is not to be used till the last; for, as we all know, he is not minded to kill the king unless he can, before or soon after, kill you also, sir. Now, sir, I have spoken the truth, as God is my witness, and I pray you to shield me from the vengeance of Duke Michael; for if, after he knows what I have done, I fall into his hands, I shall pray for one thing out of all the world⁠—a speedy death, and that I shall not obtain from him!”</p>
 			<p>The fellow’s story was rudely told, but our questions supplemented his narrative. What he had told us applied to an armed attack; but if suspicions were aroused, and there came overwhelming force⁠—such, for instance, as I, the king, could bring⁠—the idea of resistance would be abandoned; the king would be quietly murdered and slid down the pipe. And⁠—here comes an ingenious touch⁠—one of the Six would take his place in the cell, and, on the entrance of the searchers, loudly demand release and redress; and Michael, being summoned, would confess to hasty action, but he would say the man had angered him by seeking the favour of a lady in the castle (this was Antoinette de Mauban) and he had confined him there, as he conceived he, as Lord of Zenda, had right to do. But he was now, on receiving his apology, content to let him go, and so end the gossip which, to his Highness’s annoyance, had arisen concerning a prisoner in Zenda, and had given his visitors the trouble of this enquiry. The visitors, baffled, would retire, and Michael could, at his leisure, dispose of the body of the king.</p>
-			<p>Sapt, Fritz, and I in my bed, looked round on one another in horror and bewilderment at the cruelty and cunning of the plan. Whether I went in peace or in war, openly at the head of a corps, or secretly by a stealthy assault, the king would be dead before I could come near him. If Michael were stronger and overcame my party, there would be an end. But if I were stronger, I should have no way to punish him, no means of proving any guilt in him without proving my own guilt also. On the other hand, I should be left as king (ah! for a moment my pulse quickened) and it would be for the future to witness the final struggle between him and me. He seemed to have made triumph possible and ruin impossible. At the worst, he would stand as well as he had stood before I crossed his path⁠—with but one man between him and the throne, and that man an impostor; at best, there would be none left to stand against him. I had begun to think that Black Michael was over fond of leaving the fighting to his friends; but now I acknowledged that the brains, if not the arms, of the conspiracy were his.</p>
+			<p>Sapt, Fritz, and I in my bed, looked round on one another in horror and bewilderment at the cruelty and cunning of the plan. Whether I went in peace or in war, openly at the head of a corps, or secretly by a stealthy assault, the king would be dead before I could come near him. If Michael were stronger and overcame my party, there would be an end. But if I were stronger, I should have no way to punish him, no means of proving any guilt in him without proving my own guilt also. On the other hand, I should be left as king (ah! for a moment my pulse quickened) and it would be for the future to witness the final struggle between him and me. He seemed to have made triumph possible and ruin impossible. At the worst, he would stand as well as he had stood before I crossed his path⁠—with but one man between him and the throne, and that man an impostor; at best, there would be none left to stand against him. I had begun to think that Black Michael was overfond of leaving the fighting to his friends; but now I acknowledged that the brains, if not the arms, of the conspiracy were his.</p>
 			<p>“Does the king know this?” I asked.</p>
 			<p>“I and my brother,” answered Johann, “put up the pipe, under the orders of my Lord of Hentzau. He was on guard that day, and the king asked my lord what it meant. ‘Faith,’ he answered, with his airy laugh, ‘it’s a new improvement on the ladder of Jacob, whereby, as you have read, sire, men pass from the earth to heaven. We thought it not meet that your Majesty should go, in case, sire, you must go, by the common route. So we have made you a pretty private passage where the vulgar cannot stare at you or incommode your passage. That, sire, is the meaning of that pipe.’ And he laughed and bowed, and prayed the king’s leave to replenish the king’s glass⁠—for the king was at supper. And the king, though he is a brave man, as are all of his House, grew red and then white as he looked on the pipe and at the merry devil who mocked him. Ah, sir” (and the fellow shuddered), “it is not easy to sleep quiet in the Castle of Zenda, for all of them would as soon cut a man’s throat as play a game at cards; and my Lord Rupert would choose it sooner for a pastime than any other⁠—aye, sooner than he would ruin a woman, though that he loves also.”</p>
 			<p>The man ceased, and I bade Fritz take him away and have him carefully guarded; and, turning to him, I added:</p>
@@ -65,7 +65,7 @@
 			<p>“It’s a hard nut!” said I.</p>
 			<p>“So hard,” said he, shaking his grizzled head, “that as I think, this time next year is like to find you still King of Ruritania!” and he broke out into curses on Michael’s cunning.</p>
 			<p>I lay back on my pillows.</p>
-			<p>“There seems to me,” I observed, “to be two ways by which the king can come out of Zenda alive. One is by treachery in the duke’s followers.”</p>
+			<p>“There seem to me,” I observed, “to be two ways by which the king can come out of Zenda alive. One is by treachery in the duke’s followers.”</p>
 			<p>“You can leave that out,” said Sapt.</p>
 			<p>“I hope not,” I rejoined, “because the other I was about to mention is⁠—by a miracle from heaven!”</p>
 		</section>

src/epub/text/chapter-14.xhtml

@@ -25,7 +25,7 @@
 			<p>“Have you anything to ask, sire, before we part?”</p>
 			<p>The king’s voice followed. It was his, though it was faint and hollow⁠—different from the merry tones I had heard in the glades of the forest.</p>
 			<p>“Pray my brother,” said the king, “to kill me. I am dying by inches here.”</p>
-			<p>“The duke does not desire your death, sire⁠—yet,” sneered Detchard; “when he does behold your path to heaven!”</p>
+			<p>“The duke does not desire your death, sire⁠—yet,” sneered Detchard; “when he does, behold your path to heaven!”</p>
 			<p>The king answered:</p>
 			<p>“So be it! And now, if your orders allow it, pray leave me.”</p>
 			<p>“May you dream of paradise!” said the ruffian.</p>

src/epub/text/chapter-2.xhtml

@@ -67,7 +67,7 @@
 			<p>The old woman glowered; but the last words pricked my curiosity, and I interposed before she could begin scolding:</p>
 			<p>“What, the same wife, too! How’s that, young lady?”</p>
 			<p>“All the world knows that Black Michael⁠—well, then, mother, the duke⁠—would give his soul to marry his cousin, the Princess Flavia, and that she is to be the queen.”</p>
-			<p>“Upon my word,” said I, “I begin to be sorry for your duke. But if a man will be a younger son, why he must take what the elder leaves, and be as thankful to God as he can;” and, thinking of myself, I shrugged my shoulders and laughed. And then I thought also of Antoinette de Mauban and her journey to Strelsau.</p>
+			<p>“Upon my word,” said I, “I begin to be sorry for your duke. But if a man will be a younger son, why, he must take what the elder leaves, and be as thankful to God as he can;” and, thinking of myself, I shrugged my shoulders and laughed. And then I thought also of Antoinette de Mauban and her journey to Strelsau.</p>
 			<p>“It’s little dealing Black Michael has with⁠—” began the girl, braving her mother’s anger; but as she spoke a heavy step sounded on the floor, and a gruff voice asked in a threatening tone:</p>
 			<p>“Who talks of ‘Black Michael’ in his Highness’s own burgh?”</p>
 			<p>The girl gave a little shriek, half of fright⁠—half, I think, of amusement.</p>

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@@ -40,8 +40,7 @@
 			<p>He rose, came to me, and laid his hand on my shoulder.</p>
 			<p>“Lad,” he said, “if you play the man, you may save the king yet. Go back and keep his throne warm for him.”</p>
 			<p>“But the duke knows⁠—the villains he has employed know⁠—”</p>
-			<p>“Aye, but they can’t speak!” roared Sapt in grim triumph.</p>
-			<p>“We’ve got ’em! How can they denounce you without denouncing themselves? This is not the king, because we kidnapped the king and murdered his servant. Can they say that?”</p>
+			<p>“Aye, but they can’t speak!” roared Sapt in grim triumph. “We’ve got ’em! How can they denounce you without denouncing themselves? This is not the king, because we kidnapped the king and murdered his servant. Can they say that?”</p>
 			<p>The position flashed on me. Whether Michael knew me or not, he could not speak. Unless he produced the king, what could he do? And if he produced the king, where was he? For a moment I was carried away headlong; but in an instant the difficulties came strong upon me.</p>
 			<p>“I must be found out,” I urged.</p>
 			<p>“Perhaps; but every hour’s something. Above all, we must have a king in Strelsau, or the city will be Michael’s in four-and-twenty hours, and what would the king’s life be worth then⁠—or his throne? Lad, you must do it!”</p>

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@@ -42,7 +42,7 @@
 			<p>“I wish they had been,” said Sapt wistfully. “They had been, not six, but four, by now.”</p>
 			<p>I had already developed one attribute of royalty⁠—a feeling that I need not reveal all my mind or my secret designs even to my intimate friends. I had fully resolved on my course of action. I meant to make myself as popular as I could, and at the same time to show no disfavour to Michael. By these means I hoped to allay the hostility of his adherents, and make it appear, if an open conflict came about, that he was ungrateful and not oppressed.</p>
 			<p>Yet an open conflict was not what I hoped for.</p>
-			<p>The king’s interest demanded secrecy; and while secrecy lasted, I had a fine game to play in Strelsau, Michael should not grow stronger for delay!</p>
+			<p>The king’s interest demanded secrecy; and while secrecy lasted, I had a fine game to play in Strelsau. Michael should not grow stronger for delay!</p>
 			<p>I ordered my horse, and, attended by Fritz von Tarlenheim, rode in the grand new avenue of the Royal Park, returning all the salutes which I received with punctilious politeness. Then I rode through a few of the streets, stopped and bought flowers of a pretty girl, paying her with a piece of gold; and then, having attracted the desired amount of attention (for I had a trail of half a thousand people after me), I rode to the residence of the Princess Flavia, and asked if she would receive me. This step created much interest, and was met with shouts of approval. The princess was very popular, and the chancellor himself had not scrupled to hint to me that the more I pressed my suit, and the more rapidly I brought it to a prosperous conclusion, the stronger should I be in the affection of my subjects. The chancellor, of course, did not understand the difficulties which lay in the way of following his loyal and excellent advice. However, I thought I could do no harm by calling; and in this view Fritz supported me with a cordiality that surprised me, until he confessed that he also had his motives for liking a visit to the princess’s house, which motive was no other than a great desire to see the princess’s lady-in-waiting and bosom friend, the Countess Helga von Strofzin.</p>
 			<p>Etiquette seconded Fritz’s hopes. While I was ushered into the princess’s room, he remained with the countess in the antechamber: in spite of the people and servants who were hanging about, I doubt not that they managed a tête-à-tête; but I had no leisure to think of them, for I was playing the most delicate move in all my difficult game. I had to keep the princess devoted to me⁠—and yet indifferent to me; I had to show affection for her⁠—and not feel it. I had to make love for another, and that to a girl who⁠—princess or no princess⁠—was the most beautiful I had ever seen. Well, I braced myself to the task, made no easier by the charming embarrassment with which I was received. How I succeeded in carrying out my programme will appear hereafter.</p>
 			<p>“You are gaining golden laurels,” she said. “You are like the prince in Shakespeare who was transformed by becoming king. But I’m forgetting you are king, sire.”</p>