Rosa,
bent half-double, skimmed upstairs, till she came in sight of the
king whom she was so proud to serve. He was on the top landing
now, outside the door of a large attic where Rupert of Hentzau
was lodged. She saw him lay his hand on the latch of the door;
his other hand rested in the pocket of his coat. From the room
no sound came; Rupert may have heard the step outside and stood
motionless to listen. Rudolf opened the door and walked in. The
girl darted breathlessly up the remaining steps, and, coming to
the door, just as it swung back on the latch, crouched down by
it, listening to what passed within, catching glimpses of forms
and movements through the chinks of the crazy hinge and the
crevices where the wood of the panel sprung and left a narrow eye
hole for her absorbed gazing.
Rupert of Hentzau had no thought of ghosts; the men he killed lay
still where they fell, and slept where they were buried. And he
had no wonder at the sight of Rudolf Rassendyll. It told him no
more than that Rischenheim's errand had fallen out ill, at which
he was not surprised, and that his old enemy was again in his
path, at which (as I verily believe) he was more glad than sorry.
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