The Prisoner of Zenda - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel The Prisoner of Zenda Part 26 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
There was no answer.
I sprang to the horse's head. It was Rupert Hentzau.
"At last!" I cried.
For we seemed to have him. He had only his sword in his hand. My men were hot upon him; Sapt and Fritz were running up. I had outstripped them; but if they got close enough to fire, he must die or surrender.
"At last!" I cried.
"It's the play-actor!" cried he, slas.h.i.+ng at my cudgel. He cut it clean in two; and, judging discretion better than death, I ducked my head and (I blush to tell it) scampered for my life. The devil was in Rupert Hentzau; for he put spurs to his horse, and I, turning to look, saw him ride, full gallop, to the edge of the moat and leap in, while the shots of our party fell thick round him like hail. With one gleam of moonlight we should have riddled him with b.a.l.l.s; but, in the darkness, he won to the corner of the Castle, and vanished from our sight.
"The deuce take him!" grinned Sapt.
"It's a pity," said I, "that he's a villain. Whom have we got?"
We had Lauengram and Krafstein: they lay dead; and, concealment being no longer possible, we flung them, with Max, into the moat; and, drawing together in a compact body, rode off down the hill. And, in our midst, went the bodies of three gallant gentlemen. Thus we travelled home, heavy at heart for the death of our friends, sore uneasy concerning the King, and cut to the quick that young Rupert had played yet another winning hand with us.
For my own part, I was vexed and angry that I had killed no man in open fight, but only stabbed a knave in his sleep. And I did not love to hear Rupert call me a play-actor.
CHAPTER 15
I Talk with a Tempter
Ruritania is not England, or the quarrel between Duke Michael and myself could not have gone on, with the extraordinary incidents which marked it, without more public notice being directed to it. Duels were frequent among all the upper cla.s.ses, and private quarrels between great men kept the old habit of spreading to their friends and dependents.
Nevertheless, after the affray which I have just related, such reports began to circulate that I felt it necessary to be on my guard. The death of the gentlemen involved could not be hidden from their relatives. I issued a stern order, declaring that duelling had attained unprecedented licence (the Chancellor drew up the doc.u.ment for me, and very well he did it), and forbidding it save in the gravest cases. I sent a public and stately apology to Michael, and he returned a deferential and courteous reply to me; for our one point of union was--and it underlay all our differences and induced an unwilling harmony between our actions--that we could neither of us afford to throw our cards on the table. He, as well as I, was a "play-actor", and, hating one another, we combined to dupe public opinion. Unfortunately, however, the necessity for concealment involved the necessity of delay: the King might die in his prison, or even be spirited off somewhere else; it could not be helped. For a little while I was compelled to observe a truce, and my only consolation was that Flavia most warmly approved of my edict against duelling, and, when I expressed delight at having won her favour, prayed me, if her favour were any motive to me, to prohibit the practice altogether.
"Wait till we are married," said I, smiling.
Not the least peculiar result of the truce and of the secrecy which dictated it was that the town of Zenda became in the day-time--I would not have trusted far to its protection by night--a sort of neutral zone, where both parties could safely go; and I, riding down one day with Flavia and Sapt, had an encounter with an acquaintance, which presented a ludicrous side, but was at the same time embarra.s.sing. As I rode along, I met a dignified looking person driving in a two-horsed carriage. He stopped his horses, got out, and approached me, bowing low.
I recognized the Head of the Strelsau Police.
"Your Majesty's ordinance as to duelling is receiving our best attention," he a.s.sured me.
If the best attention involved his presence in Zenda, I determined at once to dispense with it.
"Is that what brings you to Zenda, Prefect?" I asked.
"Why no, sire; I am here because I desired to oblige the British Amba.s.sador."
"What's the British Amba.s.sador doing _dans cette galere_?" said I, carelessly.
"A young countryman of his, sire--a man of some position--is missing.
His friends have not heard from him for two months, and there is reason to believe that he was last seen in Zenda."
Flavia was paying little attention. I dared not look at Sapt.
"What reason?"
"A friend of his in Paris--a certain M. Featherly--has given us information which makes it possible that he came here, and the officials of the railway recollect his name on some luggage."
"What was his name?"
"Ra.s.sendyll, sire," he answered; and I saw that the name meant nothing to him. But, glancing at Flavia, he lowered his voice, as he went on: "It is thought that he may have followed a lady here. Has your Majesty heard of a certain Madame de Mauban?"
"Why, yes," said I, my eye involuntarily travelling towards the Castle.
"She arrived in Ruritania about the same time as this Ra.s.sendyll."
I caught the Prefect's glance; he was regarding me with enquiry writ large on his face.
"Sapt," said I, "I must speak a word to the Prefect. Will you ride on a few paces with the princess?" And I added to the Prefect: "Come, sir, what do you mean?"
He drew close to me, and I bent in the saddle.
"If he were in love with the lady?" he whispered. "Nothing has been heard of him for two months;" and this time it was the eye of the Prefect which travelled towards the Castle.
"Yes, the lady is there," I said quietly. "But I don't suppose Mr.
Ra.s.sendyll--is that the name?--is."
"The duke," he whispered, "does not like rivals, sire."
"You're right there," said I, with all sincerity. "But surely you hint at a very grave charge?"
He spread his hands out in apology. I whispered in his ear:
"This is a grave matter. Go back to Strelsau--"
"But, sire, if I have a clue here?"
"Go back to Strelsau," I repeated. "Tell the Amba.s.sador that you have a clue, but that you must be left alone for a week or two. Meanwhile, I'll charge myself with looking into the matter."
"The Amba.s.sador is very pressing, sir."
"You must quiet him. Come, sir; you see that if your suspicions are correct, it is an affair in which we must move with caution. We can have no scandal. Mind you return tonight."
He promised to obey me, and I rode on to rejoin my companions, a little easier in my mind. Enquiries after me must be stopped at all hazards for a week or two; and this clever official had come surprisingly near the truth. His impression might be useful some day, but if he acted on it now it might mean the worse to the King. Heartily did I curse George Featherly for not holding his tongue.
"Well," asked Flavia, "have you finished your business?"
"Most satisfactorily," said I. "Come, shall we turn round? We are almost trenching on my brother's territory."
We were, in fact, at the extreme end of the town, just where the hills begin to mount towards the Castle. We cast our eyes up, admiring the ma.s.sive beauty of the old walls, and we saw a cortege winding slowly down the hill. On it came.
"Let us go back," said Sapt.