Rupert of Hentzau [29]
to return as soon as he possibly could, and respectfully closed the door after she had entered. The constable was well aware of the value in a secret business of doing openly all that can safely be done with openness.
All of what passed at that interview I do not know, but a part Queen Flavia herself told to me, or rather to Helga, my wife; for although it was meant to reach my ear, yet to me, a man, she would not disclose it directly. First she learnt from Mr. Rassendyll the plans that had been made, and, although she trembled at the danger that he must run in meeting Rupert of Hentzau, she had such love of him and such a trust in his powers that she seemed to doubt little of his success. But she began to reproach herself for having brought him into this peril by writing her letter. At this he took from his pocket the copy that Rischenheim had carried. He had found time to read it, and now before her eyes he kissed it.
"Had I as many lives as there are words, my queen," he said softly, "for each word I would gladly give a life."
"Ah, Rudolf, but you've only one life, and that more mine than yours. Did you think we should ever meet again?"
"I didn't know," said he; and now they were standing opposite one another.
"But I knew," she said, her eyes shining brightly; "I knew always that we should meet once more. Not how, nor where, but just that we should. So I lived, Rudolf."
"God bless you!" he said.
"Yes, I lived through it all."
He pressed her hand, knowing what that phrase meant and must mean for her.
"Will it last forever?" she asked, suddenly gripping his hand tightly. But a moment later she went on: "No, no, I mustn't make you unhappy, Rudolf. I'm half glad I wrote the letter, and half glad they stole it. It's so sweet to have you fighting for me, for me only this time, Rudolf--not for the king, for me!"
"Sweet indeed, my dearest lady. Don't be afraid: we shall win."
"You will win, yes. And then you'll go?" And, dropping his hand, she covered her face with hers.
"I mustn't kiss your face," said he, "but your hands I may kiss," and he kissed her hands as they were pressed against her face.
"You wear my ring," she murmured through her fingers, "always?"
"Why, yes," he said, with a little laugh of wonder at her question.
"And there is--no one else?"
"My queen!" said he, laughing again.
"No, I knew really, Rudolf, I knew really," and now her hands flew out towards him, imploring his pardon. Then she began to speak quickly: "Rudolf, last night I had a dream about you, a strange dream. I seemed to be in Strelsau, and all the people were talking about the king. It was you they meant; you were the king. At last you were the king, and I was your queen. But I could see you only very dimly; you were somewhere, but I could not make out where; just sometimes your face came. Then I tried to tell you that you were king--yes, and Colonel Sapt and Fritz tried to tell you; the people, too, called out that you were king. What did it mean? But your face, when I saw it, was unmoved, and very pale, and you seemed not to hear what we said, not even what I said. It almost seemed as if you were dead, and yet king. Ah, you mustn't die, even to be king," and she laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Sweetheart," said he gently, "in dreams desires and fears blend in strange visions, so I seemed to you to be both a king and a dead man; but I'm not a king, and I am a very healthy fellow. Yet a thousand thanks to my dearest queen for dreaming of me."
"No, but what could it mean?" she asked again.
"What does it mean when I dream always of you, except that I always love you?"
"Was it only that?" she said, still unconvinced.
What more passed between them I do not know. I think that the queen told my wife more, but women will sometimes keep women's secrets even from their husbands; though they love us, yet we are always in some sort the common enemy, against whom they join hands. Well, I would not look too far into such secrets, for to know must be, I suppose, to blame, and who is himself so blameless
All of what passed at that interview I do not know, but a part Queen Flavia herself told to me, or rather to Helga, my wife; for although it was meant to reach my ear, yet to me, a man, she would not disclose it directly. First she learnt from Mr. Rassendyll the plans that had been made, and, although she trembled at the danger that he must run in meeting Rupert of Hentzau, she had such love of him and such a trust in his powers that she seemed to doubt little of his success. But she began to reproach herself for having brought him into this peril by writing her letter. At this he took from his pocket the copy that Rischenheim had carried. He had found time to read it, and now before her eyes he kissed it.
"Had I as many lives as there are words, my queen," he said softly, "for each word I would gladly give a life."
"Ah, Rudolf, but you've only one life, and that more mine than yours. Did you think we should ever meet again?"
"I didn't know," said he; and now they were standing opposite one another.
"But I knew," she said, her eyes shining brightly; "I knew always that we should meet once more. Not how, nor where, but just that we should. So I lived, Rudolf."
"God bless you!" he said.
"Yes, I lived through it all."
He pressed her hand, knowing what that phrase meant and must mean for her.
"Will it last forever?" she asked, suddenly gripping his hand tightly. But a moment later she went on: "No, no, I mustn't make you unhappy, Rudolf. I'm half glad I wrote the letter, and half glad they stole it. It's so sweet to have you fighting for me, for me only this time, Rudolf--not for the king, for me!"
"Sweet indeed, my dearest lady. Don't be afraid: we shall win."
"You will win, yes. And then you'll go?" And, dropping his hand, she covered her face with hers.
"I mustn't kiss your face," said he, "but your hands I may kiss," and he kissed her hands as they were pressed against her face.
"You wear my ring," she murmured through her fingers, "always?"
"Why, yes," he said, with a little laugh of wonder at her question.
"And there is--no one else?"
"My queen!" said he, laughing again.
"No, I knew really, Rudolf, I knew really," and now her hands flew out towards him, imploring his pardon. Then she began to speak quickly: "Rudolf, last night I had a dream about you, a strange dream. I seemed to be in Strelsau, and all the people were talking about the king. It was you they meant; you were the king. At last you were the king, and I was your queen. But I could see you only very dimly; you were somewhere, but I could not make out where; just sometimes your face came. Then I tried to tell you that you were king--yes, and Colonel Sapt and Fritz tried to tell you; the people, too, called out that you were king. What did it mean? But your face, when I saw it, was unmoved, and very pale, and you seemed not to hear what we said, not even what I said. It almost seemed as if you were dead, and yet king. Ah, you mustn't die, even to be king," and she laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Sweetheart," said he gently, "in dreams desires and fears blend in strange visions, so I seemed to you to be both a king and a dead man; but I'm not a king, and I am a very healthy fellow. Yet a thousand thanks to my dearest queen for dreaming of me."
"No, but what could it mean?" she asked again.
"What does it mean when I dream always of you, except that I always love you?"
"Was it only that?" she said, still unconvinced.
What more passed between them I do not know. I think that the queen told my wife more, but women will sometimes keep women's secrets even from their husbands; though they love us, yet we are always in some sort the common enemy, against whom they join hands. Well, I would not look too far into such secrets, for to know must be, I suppose, to blame, and who is himself so blameless