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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"Rupert of Hentzau"

And I
knew why he had not let me speak.
Suddenly there was a sound behind us of a horse at the gallop.
Our heads flew round in the ready apprehension of men on a
perilous errand. The hoofs drew near, for the unknown rode with
reckless haste.
"We had best see what it is," said the constable, pulling up.
A second more, and the horseman was beside us. Sapt swore an
oath, half in amusement, half in vexation.
"Why, is it you, James?" I cried.
"Yes, sir," answered Rudolf Rassendyll's servant.
"What the devil do you want?" asked Sapt.
"I came to attend on the Count von Tarlenheim, sir."
"I did not give you any orders, James."
"No, sir. But Mr. Rassendyll told me not to leave you, unless you
sent me away. So I made haste to follow you."
Then Sapt cried: "Deuce take it, what horse is that?"
"The best in the stables, so far as I could see, sir. I was
afraid of not overtaking you."
Sapt tugged his moustaches, scowled, but finally laughed.
"Much obliged for your compliment," said he. "The horse is mine."
"Indeed, sir?" said James with respectful interest.
For a moment we were all silent. Then Sapt laughed again.
"Forward!" said he, and the three of us dashed into the forest.


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