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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"The Prisoner of Zenda"


"Ah, Johann, there's one for you! Come on, Michael!"
Johann was there, then--come to the rescue of the duke! How would he
open the door for me? For I feared that Rupert had slain him.
"Help!" cried the duke's voice, faint and husky.
I heard a step on the stairs above me; and I heard a stir down to my
left, in the direction of the King's cell. But, before anything happened
on my side of the moat, I saw five or six men round young Rupert in
the embrasure of madame's window. Three or four times he lunged with
incomparable dash and dexterity. For an instant they fell back, leaving
a ring round him. He leapt on the parapet of the window, laughing as he
leapt, and waving his sword in his hand. He was drunk with blood, and he
laughed again wildly as he flung himself headlong into the moat.
What became of him then? I did not see: for as he leapt, De Gautet's
lean face looked out through the door by me, and, without a second's
hesitation, I struck at him with all the strength God had given me, and
he fell dead in the doorway without a word or a groan. I dropped on my
knees by him. Where were the keys? I found myself muttering: "The keys,
man, the keys?" as though he had been yet alive and could listen; and
when I could not find them, I--God forgive me!--I believe I struck a
dead man's face.


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