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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"Rupert of Hentzau"

In truth, he was almost in safety; but bad luck was
now to have its turn. When Mr. Rassendyll was no more than fifty
yards from my door, a carriage suddenly drove up and stopped a
few paces in front of him. The footman sprang down and opened the
door. Two ladies got out; they were dressed in evening costume,
and were returning from a ball. One was middle-aged, the other
young and rather pretty. They stood for a moment on the pavement,
the younger saying:
"Isn't it pleasant, mother? I wish I could always be up at five
o'clock."
"My dear, you wouldn't like it for long," answered the elder.
"It's very nice for a change, but--"
She stopped abruptly. Her eye had fallen on Rudolf Rassendyll. He
knew her: she was no less a person than the wife of Helsing the
chancellor; his was the house at which the carriage had stopped.
The trick that had served with the sergeant of police would not
do now. She knew the king too well to believe that she could be
mistaken about him; she was too much of a busybody to be content
to pretend that she was mistaken.
"Good gracious!" she whispered loudly, and, catching her
daughter's arm, she murmured, "Heavens, my dear, it's the king!"
Rudolf was caught.


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