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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"The Prisoner of Zenda"

Rupert's
proposals to me, of which she had, of course, been ignorant, in no
way surprised her when I related them; she had herself warned Michael
against Rupert, even when she was calling on me to deliver her from both
of them. On this night, then, Rupert had determined to have his will.
When she had gone to her room, he, having furnished himself with a key
to it, had made his entrance. Her cries had brought the duke, and there
in the dark room, while she screamed, the men had fought; and Rupert,
having wounded his master with a mortal blow, had, on the servants
rushing in, escaped through the window as I have described. The duke's
blood, spurting out, had stained his opponent's shirt; but Rupert, not
knowing that he had dealt Michael his death, was eager to finish the
encounter. How he meant to deal with the other three of the band, I know
not. I dare say he did not think, for the killing of Michael was not
premeditated. Antoinette, left alone with the duke, had tried to stanch
his wound, and thus was she busied till he died; and then, hearing
Rupert's taunts, she had come forth to avenge him. Me she had not seen,
nor did she till I darted out of my ambush, and leapt after Rupert into
the moat.
The same moment found my friends on the scene. They had reached the
chateau in due time, and waited ready by the door.


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