Rupert of Hentzau: From The Memoirs of Fritz Von Tarlenheim: Sequel to The Prisoner of ZendaHope, Anthony
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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
When the visitor was announced Rudolf was upstairs, having a bath and
some breakfast. Helga had learnt her lesson well enough to entertain the
visitor until Rudolf appeared. She was full of apologies for my absence,
protesting that she could in no way explain it; neither could she so
much as conjecture what was the king’s business with her husband. She
played the dutiful wife whose virtue was obedience, whose greatest sin
would be an indiscreet prying into what it was not her part to know.
“I know no more,” she said, “than that Fritz wrote to me to expect the
king and him at about five o’clock, and to be ready to let them in by
the window, as the king did not wish the servants to be aware of his
presence.”
The king came and greeted Helsing most graciously. The tragedy and
comedy of these busy days were strangely mingled; even now I can hardly
help smiling when I picture Rudolf, with grave lips, but that distant
twinkle in his eye (I swear he enjoyed the sport), sitting down by the
old chancellor in the darkest corner of the room, covering him with
flattery, hinting at most strange things, deploring a secret obstacle to
immediate confidence, promising that to-morrow, at latest, he would seek
the advice of the wisest and most tried of his counselors, appealing
to the chancellor’s loyalty to trust him till then. Helsing, blinking
through his spectacles, followed with devout attention the long
narrative that told nothing, and the urgent exhortation that masked a
trick. His accents were almost broken with emotion as he put himself
absolutely at the king’s disposal, and declared that he could answer for
the discretion of his family and household as completely as for his own.
“Then you’re a very lucky man, my dear chancellor,” said Rudolf, with
a sigh which seemed to hint that the king in his palace was not so
fortunate. Helsing was immensely pleased. He was all agog to go and tell
his wife how entirely the king trusted to her honor and silence.
There was nothing that Rudolf more desired than to be relieved of
the excellent old fellow’s presence; but, well aware of the supreme
importance of keeping him in a good temper, he would not hear of his
departure for a few minutes.
“At any rate, the ladies won’t talk till after breakfast, and since they
got home only at five o’clock they won’t breakfast yet awhile,” said he.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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