Thus we all stood,
listening to the people good-naturedly cheering Sapt, whom they
had recognized, and bantering James, whom they took for a servant
of the constable's.
The minutes seemed very long as we waited in utter perplexity,
almost in consternation. The same thought was in the mind of all
of us, silently imparted by one to another in the glances we
exchanged. What could have brought them from their guard of the
great secret, save its discovery? They would never have left
their post while the fulfilment of their trust was possible. By
some mishap, some unforeseen chance, the king's body must have
been discovered. Then the king's death was known, and the news of
it might any moment astonish and bewilder the city.
At last the door was flung open, and a servant announced the
Constable of Zenda. Sapt was covered with dust and mud, and
James, who entered close on his heels, was in no better plight.
Evidently they had ridden hard and furiously; indeed they were
still panting. Sapt, with a most perfunctory bow to the queen,
came straight to where Rudolf stood.
"Is he dead?" he asked, without preface.
"Yes, Rupert is dead," answered Mr. Rassendyll: "I killed him.
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