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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"The Prisoner of Zenda"

My friends surrounded me, and then I
fainted.
I suppose that I was put to bed, and there lay, unconscious, or half
conscious, for many hours; for it was night when I awoke to my full
mind, and found Fritz beside me. I was weak and weary, but he bade me be
of good cheer, saying that my wound would soon heal, and that meanwhile
all had gone well, for Johann, the keeper, had fallen into the snare we
had laid for him, and was even now in the house.
"And the queer thing is," pursued Fritz, "that I fancy he's not
altogether sorry to find himself here. He seems to think that when
Black Michael has brought off his coup, witnesses of how it was
effected--saving, of course, the Six themselves--will not be at a
premium."
This idea argued a shrewdness in our captive which led me to build
hopes on his assistance. I ordered him to be brought in at once. Sapt
conducted him, and set him in a chair by my bedside. He was sullen, and
afraid; but, to say truth, after young Rupert's exploit, we also had
our fears, and, if he got as far as possible from Sapt's formidable
six-shooter, Sapt kept him as far as he could from me. Moreover, when he
came in his hands were bound, but that I would not suffer.
I need not stay to recount the safeguards and rewards we promised the
fellow--all of which were honourably observed and paid, so that he lives
now in prosperity (though where I may not mention); and we were the more
free inasmuch as we soon learnt that he was rather a weak man than a
wicked, and had acted throughout this matter more from fear of the duke
and of his own brother Max than for any love of what was done.


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