Page:The Prisoner of Zenda.djvu/90

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74
THE PRISONER OF ZENDA.

face; the capacious flat cap hid every lock of my telltale hair. By Sapt's directions I crouched on my saddle, and rode with such a round back as I hope never to exhibit on a horse again. Down a long, narrow lane we went, meeting some wanderers and some roisterers; and as we rode we heard the cathedral bells still clanging out their welcome to the king. It was half-past six, and still light. At last we came to the city wall and to a gate.

"Have your weapon ready," whispered Sapt. "We must stop his mouth if he talks."

I put my hand on my revolver. Sapt hailed the doorkeeper. The stars fought for us! A little girl of fourteen tripped out.

"Please, sir, father's gone to see the king."

"He'd better have stayed here," said Sapt to me, grinning.

"But he said I wasn't to open the gate, sir."

"Did he, my dear?" said Sapt, dismounting. "Then give me the key."

The key was in the child's hand. Sapt gave her a crown.