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I was very kindly received at the hotelit was really no more than an innkept by a fat old lady and her two daughters. They were good, quiet people, and seemed very little interested in the great doings at Strelsau. The old ladys hero was the duke, for he was now, under the late Kings will, master of the Zenda estates and of the Castle, which rose grandly on its steep hill at the end of the valley a mile or so from the inn. The old lady, indeed, did not hesitate to express regret that the duke was not on the throne, instead of his brother. We know Duke Michael, said she. He has always lived among us; every Ruritanian knows Duke Michael. But the King is almost a stranger; he has been so much abroad, not one in ten knows him even by sight. And now, chimed in one of the young women, they say he has shaved off his beard, so that no one at all knows him. Shaved his beard! exclaimed her mother. Who says so? Johann, the dukes keeper. He has seen the King. Ah, yes. The King, sir, is now at the dukes hunting-lodge in the forest here; from here he goes to Strelsau to be crowned on Wednesday morning. I was interested to hear this, and made up my mind to walk next day in the direction of the lodge, on the chance of coming across the King. The old lady ran on garrulously: Ah, and I wish he would stay at his huntingthat and wine (and one thing more) are all he loves, they sayand suffer our duke to be crowned on Wednesday. That I wish, and I dont care who knows it. Hush, mother! urged the daughters. Oh, theres many to think as I do! cried the old woman stubbornly. I threw myself back in my deep armchair, and laughed at her zeal. For my part, said the younger and prettier of the two daughters, a fair, buxom, smiling wench, I hate Black Michael! A red Elphberg for me, mother! The King, they say, is as red as a fox or as And she laughed mischievously as she cast a glance at me, and tossed her head at her sisters reproving face. Many a man has cursed their red hair before now, muttered the old ladyand I remembered James, fifth Earl of Burlesdon. But never a woman! cried the girl. Ay, and women, when it was too late, was the stern answer, reducing the girl to silence and blushes. How comes the King here? I asked, to break an embarrassed silence. It is the dukes land here, you say. The duke invited him, sir, to rest here till Wednesday. The duke is at Strelsau, preparing the Kings reception. Then theyre friends? None better, said the old lady. But my rosy damsel tossed her head again; she was not to be repressed for long, and she broke out again: |
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