"A Mr. Rassendyll, a friend of the king's, who with his servant
James was awaiting his Majesty's return from Strelsau. His
servant here is ready to start for England, to tell Mr.
Rassendyll's relatives the news."
The queen had begun to listen before now; her eyes were fixed on
Sapt, and she had stretched out one arm to him, as if imploring
him to read her his riddle. But a few words had in truth declared
his device plainly enough in all its simplicity. Rudolf
Rassendyll was dead, his body burnt to a cinder, and the king was
alive, whole, and on his throne in Strelsau. Thus had Sapt caught
from James, the servant, the infection of his madness, and had
fulfilled in action the strange imagination which the little man
had unfolded to him in order to pass their idle hours at the
lodge.
Suddenly Mr. Rassendyll spoke in clear, short tones.
"This is all a lie, Sapt," said he, and his lips curled in
contemptuous amusement.
"It's no lie that the lodge is burnt, and the bodies in it, and
that half a hundred of the peasants know it, and that no man
could tell the body for the king's. As for the rest, it is a lie.
But I think the truth in it is enough to serve."
The two men stood facing one another with defiant eyes.
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