By Anthony Hope
With a brand new advent via Cedric Watts,
Research Professor of English, collage of Sussex.
In The Prisoner of Zenda, Rudolf Rassendyll’s shut resemblance to the King of Ruritania leads him into intrigue, romance and dangerous escapades. Enmeshed in a plot by means of the villainous Duke of Strelsau to depose the King, Rudolf is entranced by means of the attractive Princess Flavia, and reveals that either his existence and his honour are imperilled.
The sequel, Rupert of Hentzau, tells how Rupert (‘who feared neither guy nor devil’) seeks to damage Flavia’s recognition and wreak vengeance on Rudolf. occasions speed up to a dramatically violent climax. either those swashbuckling novels provide the charm of romantic event in a land now mythical. quite a few diversifications on monitor and level have prolonged the celebrity of Anthony Hope’s Ruritania.
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Extra resources for The Prisoner of Zenda and Rupert of Hentzau (Wordsworth Classics)
I took my sword, and handed into the outer room. Who have been pushing the drawbridge out—my males? if this is the case, all was once good. My eye fell at the revolvers, and that i seized one; and paused to pay attention within the doorway of the outer room. To hear, say I? definite, and to get my breath: and that i tore my blouse and twisted a strip of it around my bleeding arm; and stood listening back. i'd have given the realm to listen to Sapt’s voice. For i used to be faint, spent, and weary. And that wild-cat Rupert Hentzau was once but at huge within the fort. but, simply because i may higher shield the slender door on the most sensible of the steps than the broader front to the room, I dragged myself up the stairs, and stood in the back of it listening. What used to be the sound? back an odd one for where and the time. a simple, scornful, merry laugh—the snicker of younger Rupert Hentzau! i may scarcely think sane guy could snort. but the giggle instructed me that my males had now not come; for they need to have shot Rupert ere now, in the event that they had come. And the clock struck half-past ! My God! The door had no longer been opened! they'd long past to the financial institution! they'd now not discovered me! that they had passed by now again to Tarlenheim, with the inside track of the king’s death—and mine. good, it might be actual earlier than they received there. was once now not Rupert giggling in triumph? For a second I sank, unnerved, opposed to the door. Then i began up alert back, for Rupert cried scornfully: “Well, the bridge is there! Come over it! And in God’s identify, let’s see Black Michael. retain again, you curs! Michael, come and struggle for her! ” If it have been a three-cornered struggle, i'd but undergo my half. I grew to become the most important within the door and appeared out. bankruptcy XIX head to head within the wooded area For a second i'll see not anything, for the glare of lanterns and torches stuck me complete within the eyes from the opposite facet of the bridge. yet quickly the scene grew transparent: and it used to be a wierd scene. The bridge was once instead. on the a ways finish of it stood a bunch of the duke’s servants; or 3 carried the lighting which had dazzled me, 3 or 4 held pikes in leisure. They have been huddled jointly; their guns have been protruded ahead of them; their faces have been light and agitated. to place it it appears that evidently, they appeared in as arrant a fright as i've got visible males glance, they usually gazed apprehensively at a guy who stood in the course of the bridge, sword in hand. Rupert Hentzau used to be in his trousers and blouse; the white linen used to be stained with blood, yet his effortless, buoyant pose advised me that he used to be himself both no longer touched in any respect or purely scratched. There he stood, preserving the bridge opposed to them, and bold them to return on; or, particularly, bidding them ship Black Michael to him; and so they, having no firearms, cowered prior to the determined guy and dared now not assault him. They whispered to each other; and, within the backmost rank, I observed my good friend Johann, leaning opposed to the portal of the door and stanching with a handkerchief the blood which flowed from a wound in his cheek. by way of marvellous probability, i used to be grasp. The cravens may oppose me not more than they dared assault Rupert. I had yet to elevate my revolver, and that i despatched him to his account together with his sins on his head.