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Updated: June 21, 2025
For while suspense is bad for the sick, yet despair is worse still, and it might be that the King lay dying of mere hopelessness, for I could learn of no definite disease that afflicted him. "And how do they guard the King now?" I asked, remembering that two of the Six were dead, and Max Holf also. "Detchard and Bersonin watch by night, Rupert Hentzau and De Gautet by day, sir," he answered.
"Do you find," I asked, "any mention of a certain fracas?" He shook his head with a smile. His destination is believed to be the Castle of Zenda, but the party travelled by road and not by train. MM De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard followed an hour later, the last-named carrying his arm in a sling.
I hoped that the young ruffian would be content; but he emptied the other barrels at the pipe, and one, skimming over the pipe, whistled through my hair as I crouched on the other side. "'Ware bridge!" a voice cried, to my relief. Rupert and De Gautet cried, "A moment!" and ran across. The bridge was drawn back, and all became still. The clock struck a quarter-past one.
"Perhaps they'll cut mine," I suggested. "Nothing more likely," agreed Sapt. "Who are here, Fritz?" "De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard." "The foreigners! It's as plain as a pikestaff. He's brought them, and left the Ruritanians with the King; that's because he wants to commit the Ruritanians as deep as he can." "They were none of them among our friends at the lodge, then?" I asked.
"De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard are in Strelsau; and any one of them, lad, would cut your throat as readily as readily as I would Black Michael's, and a deal more treacherously. What's the letter?" I opened it and read it aloud: "If the King desires to know what it deeply concerns the King to know, let him do as this letter bids him.
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