Rupert of Hentzau: From The Memoirs of Fritz Von Tarlenheim: Sequel to The Prisoner of Zenda — John Shaqi
Rupert of Hentzau: From The Memoirs of Fritz Von Tarlenheim: Sequel to The Prisoner of ZendaHope, Anthony
General
Rupert of Hentzau: From The Memoirs of Fritz Von Tarlenheim: Sequel to The Prisoner of Zenda
Hope, Anthony
Adventure stories; British -- Foreign countries -- Fiction; Impostors and imposture -- Fiction; Kings and rulers -- Fiction
The king was unarmed, and Herbert in no better plight; their hunting
weapons were in the adjoining room, and Rupert seemed to bar the way.
I have said that the king was no coward, yet I think, that the sight of
Rupert, bringing back the memory of his torments in the dungeon, half
cowed him; for he shrank back crying, “You!” The hound, in subtle
understanding of his master’s movement, growled angrily.
“You expected me, sire?” said Rupert with a bow; but he smiled. I know
that the sight of the king’s alarm pleased him. To inspire terror was
his delight, and it does not come to every man to strike fear into the
heart of a king and an Elphberg. It had come more than once to Rupert of
Hentzau.
“No,” muttered the king. Then, recovering his composure a little, he
said angrily, “How dare you come here?”
“You didn’t expect me?” cried Rupert, and in an instant the thought of a
trap seemed to flash across his alert mind. He drew the revolver halfway
from his belt, probably in a scarcely conscious movement, born of the
desire to assure himself of its presence. With a cry of alarm Herbert
flung himself before the king, who sank back on the bed. Rupert,
puzzled, vexed, yet half-amused (for he smiled still, the man said),
took a step forward, crying out something about Rischenheim--what,
Herbert could not tell us.
“Keep back,” exclaimed the king. “Keep back.”
Rupert paused; then, as though with a sudden thought, he held up the box
that was in his left hand, saying:
‘“Well, look at this sire, and we’ll talk afterwards,” and he stretched
out his hand with the box in it.
Now the king stood on a razor’s edge, for the king whispered to Herbert,
“What is it? Go and take it.”
But Herbert hesitated, fearing to leave the king, whom his body now
protected as though with a shield. Rupert’s impatience overcame him:
if there were a trap, every moment’s delay doubled his danger. With a
scornful laugh he exclaimed, “Catch it, then, if you’re afraid to come
for it,” and he flung the packet to Herbert or the king, or which of
them might chance to catch it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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