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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"The Prisoner of Zenda"

That, however, must be risked--that and all it might mean;
for Sapt, no less than myself, recognized that the present state of
things had become unendurable. And there was one thing that I dared to
calculate on--not, as I now know, without warrant. It was this--that
Black Michael would not believe that I meant well by the King. He could
not appreciate--I will not say an honest man, for the thoughts of my
own heart have been revealed--but a man acting honestly. He saw
my opportunity as I had seen it, as Sapt had seen it; he knew the
princess--nay (and I declare that a sneaking sort of pity for him
invaded me), in his way he loved her; he would think that Sapt and Fritz
could be bribed, so the bribe was large enough. Thinking thus, would he
kill the King, my rival and my danger? Ay, verily, that he would, with
as little compunction as he would kill a rat. But he would kill Rudolf
Rassendyll first, if he could; and nothing but the certainty of being
utterly damned by the release of the King alive and his restoration to
the throne would drive him to throw away the trump card which he held in
reserve to baulk the supposed game of the impudent impostor Rassendyll.
Musing on all this as I rode along, I took courage.
Michael knew of my coming, sure enough. I had not been in the house an
hour, when an imposing Embassy arrived from him.


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