Starting from this point, his
audacious mind darted forward to new and bolder schemes. He could
offer again to Rudolf Rassendyll what he had offered once before,
three years ago--a partnership in crime and the profits of
crime--or if this advance were refused, then he declared that he
would himself descend openly into the streets of Strelsau and
proclaim the death of the king from the steps of the cathedral.
"Who can tell," he cried, springing up, enraptured and merry with
the inspiration of his plan, "who can tell whether Sapt or I came
first to the lodge? Who found the king alive, Sapt or I? Who left
him dead, Sapt or I? Who had most interest in killing him--I, who
only sought to make him aware of what touched his honor, or Sapt,
who was and is hand and glove with the man that now robs him of
his name and usurps his place while his body is still warm? Ah,
they haven't done with Rupert of Hentzau yet!"
He stopped, looking down on his companion. Rischenheim's fingers
still twitched nervously and his cheeks were pale. But now his
face was alight with interest and eagerness. Again the
fascination of Rupert's audacity and the infection of his courage
caught on his kinsman's weaker nature, and inspired him to a
temporary emulation of the will that dominated him.
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