Opening my eyes, I said boldly:
"Now that you are satisfied who I resemble, gentlemen, perhaps you
will tell me who you are?"
"Certainly," said the elder curtly. "I am Spitz--a simple colonel
of his Majesty's, yet, nevertheless, the one man who runs this
whole dynasty--and this young gentleman is Fritz, my lieutenant.
And you are--?"
"My name is Razorbill--brother to Lord Burleydon," I replied
calmly.
"Good heavens! another of the lot!" he muttered. Then, correcting
himself, he said brusquely: "Any relation to that Englishwoman who
was so sweet on the old Rupert centuries ago?"
Here, again, I suppose my sister-in-law would have had me knock
down the foreign insulter of my English ancestress--but I colored
to the roots of my hair, and even farther--with pleasure at this
proof of my royal descent! And then a cheery voice was heard
calling "Spitz!" and "Fritz!" through the woods.
"The King!" said Spitz to Fritz quickly. "He must not see him."
"Too late," said Fritz, as a young man bounded lightly out of the
bushes.
I was thunderstruck! It was as if I had suddenly been confronted
with a mirror--and beheld myself! Of course he was not quite so
good-looking, or so tall, but he was still a colorable imitation!
I was delighted.
Nevertheless, for a moment he did not seem to reciprocate my
feeling. He stared at me, staggered back and passed his hand
across his forehead.
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