I suppose
he wanted to find out how much the old woman knew.
She made no answer, but stared up at his face. In her
bewilderment she forgot to ask how he had learnt the signal that
gained him admission.
"I've come to see the Count of Hentzau," Rudolf continued. "Take
me to him at once."
The old woman was across his path in a moment, all defiant, arms
akimbo.
"Nobody can see the count. He's not here," she blurted out.
"What, can't the king see him? Not even the king?"
"King!" she cried, peering at him. "Are you the king?"
Rosa burst out laughing.
"Mother, you must have seen the king a hundred times," she
laughed.
"The king, or his ghost--what does it matter?" said Rudolf
lightly.
The old woman drew back with an appearance of sudden alarm.
"His ghost? Is he?"
"His ghost!" rang out in the girl's merry laugh. "Why, here's the
king himself, mother. You don't look much like a ghost, sir."
Mother Holf's face was livid now, and her eyes staring fixedly.
Perhaps it shot into her brain that something had happened to the
king, and that this man had come because of it--this man who was
indeed the image, and might have been the spirit, of the king.
She leant against the door post, her broad bosom heaving under
her scanty stuff gown.
Pages:
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302