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Updated: May 1, 2025
The face he saw was von Mitter's. His heart clogged in his throat, not at the danger which threatened him, but at the thought of what that carriage might contain. A short time passed, during which nothing was heard but the striking of galloping hoofs and the rumble of the carriage. Maurice soon drew abreast of von Mitter.
To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two reports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow under the right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed. He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance. Already his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from von Mitter or from Scharfenstein.
"It is not for me or you to question, Max," said von Mitter, looking down. He had his own opinion, but he was not minded to disclose it. "What are you going to do?" "Perform my duty until the end," sourly. "Go you and help against the students, who have not manliness enough even to respect the dead. The cowardly servants are all gone; save the king's valet. There are only seven of us in all.
This reply was greeted with sundry noises, such as sabers coming from scabbards, clicking of pistol locks, and the moving of feet. Madame put out her hand suggestively, and the noise ceased. Von Mitter smiled disdainfully, but did not stir. "I warn you, Madame," he said, "that this is war. I accept all the responsibilities of my position. I know nothing of any surrender or victory.
The compilations from the old poets by Sarada Mitter and Akshay Sarkar were also of great interest to me. Our elders were subscribers, but not very regular readers, of these series, so that it was not difficult for me to get at them. Vidyapati's quaint and corrupt Maithili language attracted me all the more because of its unintelligibility.
With a bound he shot past von Mitter, who was cursing deeply and trying to reload. Maurice did not propose to waste powder on the driver, but was determined to bring down one of the carriage horses, which were marvelous brutes for speed. Scharfenstein kept popping away at the driver, but without apparent result. Finally Maurice secured the desired range.
Von Mitter assisted the maid into the carriage and seated her. "Go and stay with her," said Maurice, brusquely; "you're half fainting." "You are very handy, Carewe," said von Mitter gratefully, and he climbed in beside the maid, who, her fright gone, gave way to womanly instincts. She took her kerchief and wiped the Lieutenant's cheek, pressing his hand in hers the while.
"A compliment which I readily return." "A private secretary; I never thought of you in that capacity." "One must take what one can," tranquilly. "A good precept." Cathewe rolled the ends of his mustache, a trifle perplexed how to put it. "But there should be exceptions. What," and his voice became crisp and cold, "what was Hildegarde von Mitter to you?" "And what is that to you?"
Now tell me how 'tis to be played." "Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied by her eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and Scharfenstein?" "Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not be enough. Von Mitter and Scharfenstein " "Will as usual remain at the carriage.
"Let me lie down somewhere; if I fall I am a dead man." After a pause: "Take me into the throne room. I shall last till Madame comes. Let her find me there.... The brandy!" Scharfenstein held the flask to the sufferer's lips. "The throne room?" repeated von Mitter, surprised at this strange request. "Well, why not? For what is a throne when there is no king to sit on it?
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