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The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope
page 59 of 225 (26%)

"I thought I heard hoofs," said he.

"I think not, your Highness."

"Why shouldn't we go to the lodge?"

"I fear a trap. If all is well, why go to the lodge? If not, it's a
snare to trap us."

Suddenly the duke's horse neighed. In an instant we folded our cloaks
close round our horses' heads, and, holding them thus, covered the duke
and his attendant with our revolvers. If they had found us, they had
been dead men, or our prisoners.

Michael waited a moment longer. Then he cried:

"To Zenda, then!" and setting spurs to his horse, galloped on.

Sapt raised his weapon after him, and there was such an expression
of wistful regret on his face that I had much ado not to burst out
laughing.

For ten minutes we stayed where we were.

"You see," said Sapt, "they've sent him news that all is well."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"God knows," said Sapt, frowning heavily. "But it's brought him from
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