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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"Rupert of Hentzau"

He caught Rudolf's hand and
spoke to him again in a low, broken voice, an unwonted softness
transforming his harsh tones.
"Lad," he said, "don't say no. Here's the finest lady alive sick
for her lover, and the finest country in the world sick for its
true king, and the best friends--ay, by Heaven, the best
friends--man ever had, sick to call you master. I know nothing
about your conscience; but this I know: the king's dead, and the
place is empty; and I don't see what Almighty God sent you here
for unless it was to fill it. Come, lad--for our love and her
honor! While he was alive I'd have killed you sooner than let you
take it. He's dead. Now--for our love and her honor, lad!"
I do not know what thoughts passed in Mr. Rassendyll's mind. His
face was set and rigid. He made no sign when Sapt finished, but
stood as he was, motionless, for a long while. Then he slowly
bent his head and looked down into the queen's eyes. For a while
she sat looking back into his. Then, carried away by the wild
hope of immediate joy, and by her love for him and her pride in
the place he was offered, she sprang up and threw herself at his
feet, crying:
"Yes, yes! For my sake, Rudolf--for my sake!"
"Are you, too, against me, my queen?" he murmured caressing her
ruddy hair.


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