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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"Rupert of Hentzau"

Well,
they should hear nothing from her. The king himself had charged
her to be silent.
"But Rischenheim has come, I suppose?" pursued Rupert.
"Oh, yes; he came, my lord, soon after you went. He wears his arm
in a sling."
"Ah!" cried Rupert in sudden excitement. "As I guessed! The
devil! If only I could do everything myself, and not have to
trust to fools and bunglers! Where's the count?"
"Why, in the attic. You know the way."
"True. But I want some breakfast, mother."
"Rosa shall serve you at once, my lord."
The girl followed Rupert up the narrow crazy staircase of the
tall old house. They passed three floors, all uninhabited; a last
steep flight that brought them right under the deep arched roof.
Rupert opened a door that stood at the top of the stairs, and,
followed still by Rosa with her mysterious happy smile, entered a
long narrow room. The ceiling, high in the centre, sloped rapidly
down on either side, so that at door and window it was little
more than six feet above the floor. There was an oak table and a
few chairs; a couple of iron bedsteads stood by the wall near the
window. One was empty; the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim lay on the
other, fully dressed, his right arm supported in a sling of black
silk.


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