Rupert of Hentzau (Dystopian Novel). Anthony Hope
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Название: Rupert of Hentzau (Dystopian Novel)
Автор: Anthony Hope
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066052041
isbn:
“Now to business,” said Colonel Sapt dryly; and Rudolf laughed a little.
Rudolf passed into the room. Sapt went to the king’s apartments, and asked the physician whether his Majesty were sleeping well. Receiving reassuring news of the royal slumbers, he proceeded to the quarters of the king’s body-servant, knocked up the sleepy wretch, and ordered breakfast for the king and the Count of Luzau–Rischenheim at nine o’clock precisely, in the morning-room that looked out over the avenue leading to the entrance to the new chateau. This done, he returned to the room where Rudolf was, carried a chair into the passage, bade Rudolf lock the door, sat down, revolver in hand, and himself went to sleep. Young Bernenstein was in bed just now, taken faint, and the constable himself was acting as his substitute; that was to be the story, if a story were needed. Thus the hours from two to six passed that morning in the castle of Zenda.
At six the constable awoke and knocked at the door; Rudolf Rassendyll opened it.
“Slept well?” asked Sapt.
“Not a wink,” answered Rudolf cheerfully.
“I thought you had more nerve.”
“It wasn’t want of nerve that kept me awake,” said Mr. Rassendyll.
Sapt, with a pitying shrug, looked round. The curtains of the window were half-drawn. The table was moved near to the wall, and the arm-chair by it was well in shadow, being quite close to the curtains.
“There’s plenty of room for you behind,” said Rudolf; “And when Rischenheim is seated in his chair opposite to mine, you can put your barrel against his head by just stretching out your hand. And of course I can do the same.”
“Yes, it looks well enough,” said Sapt, with an approving nod. “What about the beard?”
“Bernenstein is to tell him you’ve shaved this morning.”
“Will he believe that?”
“Why not? For his own sake he’d better believe everything.”
“And if we have to kill him?”
“We must run for it. The king would be furious.”
“He’s fond of him?”
“You forget. He wants to know about the dogs.”
“True. You’ll be in your place in time?”
“Of course.”
Rudolf Rassendyll took a turn up and down the room. It was easy to see that the events of the night had disturbed him. Sapt’s thoughts were running in a different channel.
“When we’ve done with this fellow, we must find Rupert,” said he.
Rudolf started.
“Rupert? Rupert? True; I forgot. Of course we must,” said he confusedly.
Sapt looked scornful; he knew that his companion’s mind had been occupied with the queen. But his remarks — if he had meditated any — were interrupted by the clock striking seven.
“He’ll be here in an hour,” said he.
“We’re ready for him,” answered Rudolf Rassendyll. With the thought of action his eyes grew bright and his brow smooth again. He and old Sapt looked at one another, and they both smiled.
“Like old times, isn’t it, Sapt?”
“Aye, sire, like the reign of good King Rudolf.”
Thus they made ready for the Count of Luzau–Rischenheim, while my cursed wound held me a prisoner at Wintenberg. It is still a sorrow to me that I know what passed that morning only by report, and had not the honor of bearing a part in it. Still, her Majesty did not forget me, but remembered that I would have taken my share, had fortune allowed. Indeed I would most eagerly.
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