I
should even like a bath."
The three of them were immediately attracted by a singular noise outside
in the corridor. The door swung in violently, crashing against the wall
and shivering into atoms the Venetian mirror. The king, the prince, and
the chancellor were instantly upon their feet. The king clutched the
back of his chair with a grip of iron: Gretchen? Her highness? What was
Gretchen doing here? Ah, could he have flown! He muttered a curse at the
chancellor for the delay. But happily Gretchen did not see him.
The duke came in first, and he waited till the others were inside; then
he shut the door with lesser violence and rushed over to the chancellor.
"Herbeck, you villain!"
The chancellor stared at the Gipsy, at Von Arnsberg, at Grumbach.
"Herbeck, you black scoundrel!" cried the duke. "Can you realize how
difficult it is not to take you by the throat and strangle you here and
now?"
"He is mad!" said Herbeck, bracing himself against the desk.
"Yes. I _am_ mad, but it is the sane madness of a terribly wronged man.
Come here, you Gipsy!" The duke seized Herbeck's hand and pressed it
down fiercely on the desk. "Look at that and tell me if it is not the
hand of a Judas!"
"That is the hand, Highness," said the Gipsy, without hesitation.
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