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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"Rupert of Hentzau"


"Ay, perhaps. But wild beasts in a corner bite hard."
"I wish my arm were well!"
"You'll be safer with it wounded," said Rupert with a smile.
"By God, Rupert, I can defend myself."
"True, true; but it's your brain I want now, cousin."
"You shall see that I have something in me."
"If it please God, dear cousin."
With every mocking encouragement and every careless taunt
Rischenheim's resolve to prove himself a man grew stronger. He
snatched up a revolver that lay on the mantelpiece and put it in
his pocket.
"Don't fire, if you can help it," advised Rupert. Rischenheim's
answer was to make for the door at a great speed. Rupert watched
him go, and then returned to the window. The last his cousin saw
was his figure standing straight and lithe against the light,
while he looked out on the city. Still there was no stir in the
streets, still the royal standard floated at the top of the flag
staffs.
Rischenheim plunged down the stairs: his feet were too slow for
his eagerness. At the bottom he found the girl Rosa sweeping the
passage with great apparent diligence.
"You're going out, my lord?" she asked.
"Why, yes; I have business. Pray stand on one side, this passage
is so cursedly narrow.


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