mixture of increased apprehension and unlooked-for joy.
"Yes, a letter too: she wrote a letter, and I carried that as well as the box. I've lost them both, Rudolf. God help me, I've lost them both! Rupert has the letter too."
I think I must have been weak and unmanned from the blow I had received, for my composure broke down here. Rudolf stepped up to me and wrung me by the hand. I mastered myself again and looked in his face, as he stood in thought, his hand caressing the strong curve of his clean-shaven chin. Now that I was with him again it seemed as though I had never lost him, as though we were still together in Strelsau or at Tarlenheim, planning how to hoodwink Black Michael, send Rupert of Hentzau to his own place, and bring the King back to his throne. For Mr. Rassendyll, as he stood before me now, was changed in nothing since our last meeting, nor indeed since he reigned in Strelsau, save that a few flecks of grey spotted his hair.
My battered head ached most consumedly. Mr. Rassendyll rang the bell twice, and a short thickset man of middle age appeared; he wore a suit of tweed and had the air of smartness and respectability which marks English servants.
"James," said Rudolf, "this gentleman has hurt his head. Look after it."
