Would the one hold both?
With a great spasm of effort Rupert put it to the proof.
The smile that bent Mr.Rassendyll's lips gave the answer.

He could hold both, with one hand he could hold both: not for long, no, but for an instant.

And then, in the instant, his left hand, free at last, shot to the breast of the count's coat.

It was the same that he had worn at the hunting-lodge, and was ragged and torn from the boar-hound's teeth.
Rudolf tore it further open, and his hand dashed in.
"God's curse on you!" snarled Rupert of Hentzau.
But Mr.Rassendyll still smiled.

Then he drew out a letter.