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Hope, Anthony, 1863-1933

"The Prisoner of Zenda"

So that it was thought some great man
travelled privately for his pleasure from the little station that
morning; whereas, in truth it was only I, Rudolf Rassendyll, an English
gentleman, a cadet of a good house, but a man of no wealth nor position,
nor of much rank. They would have been disappointed to know that. Yet
had they known all they would have looked more curiously still. For, be
I what I might now, I had been for three months a King, which, if not
a thing to be proud of, is at least an experience to have undergone.
Doubtless I should have thought more of it, had there not echoed through
the air, from the towers of Zenda that we were leaving far away, into
my ears and into my heart the cry of a woman's love--"Rudolf! Rudolf!
Rudolf!"
Hark! I hear it now!


CHAPTER 22
Present, Past--and Future?

The details of my return home can have but little interest. I went
straight to the Tyrol and spent a quiet fortnight--mostly on my back,
for a severe chill developed itself; and I was also the victim of a
nervous reaction, which made me weak as a baby. As soon as I had reached
my quarters, I sent an apparently careless postcard to my brother,
announcing my good health and prospective return. That would serve to
satisfy the inquiries as to my whereabouts, which were probably still
vexing the Prefect of the Police of Strelsau.


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