It was twenty minutes past nine. Simon's
cursed chatter had lost a quarter of an hour. I opened my lips to
speak. A glance from Sapt's eyes told me that he discerned what I
was about to say. I was silent.
"You'll be in time?" asked the queen, with clasped hands and
frightened eyes.
"Assuredly, madam," returned Sapt with a bow.
"You won't let him reach the king?"
"Why, no, madam," said Sapt with a smile.
"From my heart, gentlemen," she said in a trembling voice, "from
my heart--"
"Here are the horses," cried Sapt. He snatched her hand, brushed
it with his grizzly moustache, and--well, I am not sure I heard,
and I can hardly believe what I think I heard. But I will set it
down for what it is worth. I think he said, "Bless your sweet
face, we'll do it." At any rate she drew back with a little cry
of surprise, and I saw the tears standing in her eyes. I kissed
her hand also; then we mounted, and we started, and we rode, as
if the devil were behind us, for the hunting-lodge.
But I turned once to watch her standing on the terrace, with
young Bernenstein's tall figure beside her.
"Can we be in time?" said I. It was what I had meant to say
before.
"I think not, but, by God, we'll try," said Colonel Sapt.
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