"
"Yet," observed Rupert, "Rudolf Rassendyll has been much threatened, and
yet lives!"
"Am I in fault because my servants bungle?" asked Michael scornfully.
"Your Highness has run no risk of bungling!" sneered Rupert.
It was telling the duke that he shirked danger as plain as ever I
have heard a man told. Black Michael had self-control. I dare say he
scowled--it was a great regret to me that I could not see their faces
better--but his voice was even and calm, as he answered:
"Enough, enough! We mustn't quarrel, Rupert. Are Detchard and Bersonin
at their posts?"
"They are, sir."
"I need you no more."
"Nay, I'm not oppressed with fatigue," said Rupert.
"Pray, sir, leave us," said Michael, more impatiently. "In ten minutes
the drawbridge will be drawn back, and I presume you have no wish to
swim to your bed."
Rupert's figure disappeared. I heard the door open and shut again.
Michael and Antoinette de Mauban were left together. To my chagrin,
the duke laid his hand on the window and closed it. He stood talking
to Antoinette for a moment or two. She shook her head, and he turned
impatiently away. She left the window. The door sounded again, and Black
Michael closed the shutters.
"De Gautet, De Gautet, man!" sounded from the drawbridge.
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