I followed the new
line they took. She looked at Rudolf Rassendyll, and he at her.
Helga had taken out her handkerchief, and, utterly upset by the
horror and shock, was lying back in a low chair, sobbing
half-hysterically; I saw the swift look that passed from the
queen to her lover, carrying in it grief, remorse, and most
unwilling joy. He did not speak to her, but put out his hand and
took hers. She drew it away almost sharply, and covered her face
with both hands.
Rudolf turned to me. "When was it?"
"Last night."
"And the .... He's at the lodge?"
"Yes, with Sapt and James."
I was recovering my senses and my coolness.
"Nobody knows yet," I said. "We were afraid you might be taken
for him by somebody. But, my God, Rudolf, what's to be done now?"
Mr. Rassendyll's lips were set firm and tight. He frowned
slightly, and his blue eyes wore a curious entranced expression.
He seemed to me to be forgetful of everything, even of us who
were with him, in some one idea that possessed him. The queen
herself came nearer to him and lightly touched his arm with her
hand. He started as though surprised, then fell again into his
reverie.
"What's to be done, Rudolf?" I asked again.
Pages:
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261