“Ah! was it at a tea-party, when some of your friends got on the wrong side of the table?”
“What can you expect of fools like Detchard and De Gautet? I wish I’d been there.”
“And the duke interferes?”
“Well,” said Rupert meditatively, “that’s hardly a fair way of putting it, perhaps. I want to interfere.”
“And she prefers the duke?”
“Ay, the silly creature! Ah, well, you think about my plan,” and, with a bow, he pricked his horse and trotted after the body of his friend.
I went back to Flavia and Sapt, pondering on the strangeness of the man. Wicked men I have known in plenty, but Rupert Hentzau remains unique in my experience. And if there be another anywhere, let him be caught and hanged out of hand. So say I!
“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?” said Flavia.
Well, of course, she didn’t know him as I did; yet I was put out, for I thought his bold glances would have made her angry. But my dear Flavia was a woman, and so—she was not put out. On the contrary, she thought young Rupert very handsome—as, beyond question, the ruffian was.
“And how sad he looked at his friend’s death!” said she.