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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"Rupert of Hentzau"

Sapt alone lay
back in his chair. The queen also had resumed her seat; she
seemed to pay little heed to what we said. I think that she was
still engrossed with the struggle and tumult in her own soul. The
sin of which she accused herself, and the joy to which her whole
being sprang in a greeting which would not be abashed, were at
strife between themselves, but joined hands to exclude from her
mind any other thought.
"In an hour I must be gone from here," began Rudolf.
"If you wish that, it's easy," observed Colonel Sapt.
"Come, Sapt, be reasonable," smiled Mr. Rassendyll. "Early
to-morrow, we--you and I--"
"Oh, I also?" asked the colonel.
"Yes; you, Bernenstein, and I will be at the lodge."
"That's not impossible, though I have had nearly enough riding."
Rudolf fixed his eyes firmly on Sapt's.
"You see," he said, "the king reaches his hunting-lodge early in
the morning."
"I follow you, sire."
"And what happens there, Sapt? Does he shoot himself
accidentally?"
"Well, that happens sometimes."
"Or does an assassin kill him?"
"Eh, but you've made the best assassin unavailable."
Even at this moment I could not help smiling at the old fellow's
surly wit and Rudolf's amused tolerance of it.


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