"Who's there?" cried Mother Holf sharply. "The shop's shut
to-day: you can't come in."
"But I am in," came the answer, and Rudolf stepped towards her.
The girl followed a pace behind, her hands clasped and her eyes
alight with excitement. "Don't you know me?" asked Rudolf,
standing opposite the old woman and smiling down on her.
There, in the dim light of the low-roofed passage, Mother Holf
was fairly puzzled. She knew the story of Mr. Rassendyll; she
knew that he was again in Ruritania, it was no surprise to her
that he should be in Strelsau; but she did not know that Rupert
had killed the king, and she had not seen the king close at hand
since his illness and his beard impaired what had been a perfect
likeness. In fine, she could not tell whether it were indeed the
king who spoke to her or his counterfeit.
"Who are you?" she asked, curt and blunt in her confusion. The
girl broke in with an amused laugh.
"Why, it's the--" She paused. Perhaps the king's identity was a
secret.
Rudolf nodded to her. "Tell her who I am," said he.
"Why, mother, it's the king," whispered Rosa, laughing and
blushing. "The king, mother."
"Ay, if the king's alive, I'm the king," said Rudolf.
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