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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"Rupert of Hentzau"

The secret
had outlived the king, and he had gone to his death unknowing.
All at once--I cannot tell why--I put my hand over my eyes; I
found my eyelashes were wet.
"Is it open?" asked Sapt again, for in the dim light he could not
see.
"No," I answered.
"Thank God!" said he. And, for Sapt's, the voice was soft.

CHAPTER IX. THE KING IN THE HUNTING LODGE
THE moment with its shock and tumult of feeling brings one
judgment, later reflection another. Among the sins of Rupert of
Hentzau I do not assign the first and greatest place to his
killing of the king. It was, indeed, the act of a reckless man
who stood at nothing and held nothing sacred; but when I consider
Herbert's story, and trace how the deed came to be done and the
impulsion of circumstances that led to it, it seems to have been
in some sort thrust upon him by the same perverse fate that
dogged our steps. He had meant the king no harm--indeed it may
be argued that, from whatever motive, he had sought to serve
him--and save under the sudden stress of self-defense he had done
him none. The king's unlooked-for ignorance of his errand,
Herbert's honest hasty zeal, the temper of Boris the hound, had
forced on him an act unmeditated and utterly against his
interest.


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