He had found time to read it, and now
before her eyes he kissed it.
"Had I as many lives as there are words, my queen," he said
softly, "for each word I would gladly give a life."
"Ah, Rudolf, but you've only one life, and that more mine than
yours. Did you think we should ever meet again?"
"I didn't know," said he; and now they were standing opposite one
another.
"But I knew," she said, her eyes shining brightly; "I knew always
that we should meet once more. Not how, nor where, but just that
we should. So I lived, Rudolf."
"God bless you!" he said.
"Yes, I lived through it all."
He pressed her hand, knowing what that phrase meant and must mean
for her.
"Will it last forever?" she asked, suddenly gripping his hand
tightly. But a moment later she went on: "No, no, I mustn't make
you unhappy, Rudolf. I'm half glad I wrote the letter, and half
glad they stole it. It's so sweet to have you fighting for me,
for me only this time, Rudolf--not for the king, for me!"
"Sweet indeed, my dearest lady. Don't be afraid: we shall win."
"You will win, yes. And then you'll go?" And, dropping his hand,
she covered her face with hers.
"I mustn't kiss your face," said he, "but your hands I may kiss,"
and he kissed her hands as they were pressed against her face.
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