“He’ll have better reason to be sad at his own,” observed Sapt, with a grim smile.
As for me, I grew sulky; unreasonable it was perhaps, for what better business had I to look at her with love than had even Rupert’s lustful eyes? And sulky I remained till, as evening fell and we rode up to Tarlenheim, Sapt having fallen behind in case anyone should be following us, Flavia, riding close beside me, said softly, with a little half-ashamed laugh:
“Unless you smile, Rudolf, I cry. Why are you angry?”
“It was something that fellow said to me,” said I, but I was smiling as we reached the door and dismounted.
There a servant handed me a note: it was unaddressed.
“Is it for me?” I asked.
“Yes, sire; a boy brought it.”
I tore it open:
Johann carries this for me. I warned you once. In the name of God, and if you are a man, rescue me from this den of murderers!—A. de M.
I handed it to Sapt; but all that the tough old soul said in reply to this piteous appeal was: