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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"Rupert of Hentzau"

Clearly he was expected, for without any sound
of approaching feet the chain was unfastened with a subdued
rattle. Then came the noise of the bolt being cautiously worked
back into its socket. As it shot home a chink of the door opened.
At the same moment Rudolf's hand slipped from Bauer's arm. With a
swift movement he caught the fellow by the nape of the neck and
flung him violently forward into the roadway, where, losing his
footing, he fell sprawling face downwards in the mud. Rudolf
threw himself against the door: it yielded, he was inside, and in
an instant he had shut the door and driven the bolt home again,
leaving Bauer in the gutter outside. Then he turned, with his
hand on the butt of his revolver. I know that he hoped to find
Rupert of Hentzau's face within a foot of his.
Neither Rupert nor Rischenheim, nor even the old woman fronted
him: a tall, handsome, dark girl faced him, holding an oil-lamp
in her hand. He did not know her, but I could have told him that
she was old Mother Holf's youngest child, Rosa, for I had often
seen her as I rode through the town of Zenda with the king,
before the old lady moved her dwelling to Strelsau. Indeed the
girl had seemed to haunt the king's foot-steps, and he had
himself joked on her obvious efforts to attract his attention,
and the languishing glances of her great black eyes.


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