CHAPTER VI
INGOMEDE THE BEAUTIFUL
A light, chilling drizzle had been falling all evening, pattering softlyupon the roof of leaves that covered the sidewalks along Castle Avenue,glistening on the lamp-lit pavements and blowing ever so gently in thefaces of those who walked in the dripping shades. Far back from theshimmering sidewalks, surrounded by the blackest of shadows, andapproached by hedge-bordered paths and driveways, stood the mansionsoccupied by the nobility of this gay little kingdom. A score or more ofancient palaces, in which the spirit, of modern aggression had wroughtinterior changes but had left the exteriors untouched, formed thisaristocratic line of homes. Here were houses that had been built in thefifteenth century,--great, square, solemn-looking structures, grown greyand green with age.
There were lights in a thousand windows along this misty, royalroad--lights that reflected the pleasures of the rich and yet caused noenvy in time hearts of the loyal poor.
Almost in the centre of the imposing line stood the home of the Duke ofPerse, Minister of Finance, flanked on either side by structures as grimand as gay as itself, yet far less significant in their generation. Heredwelt the most important man in the principality, not excepting thedevoted prime minister himself. Not that Perse was so well beloved, butthat he held the destinies of the land in Midas-like fingers. More thanthat, he was the father of the far-famed Countess Marlanx, the mostglorious beauty at the Austrian and Russian courts. She had gone forthfrom Graustark as its most notable bride since the wedding day of thePrincess Yetive, late in the nineties. Ingomede, the beautiful, hadjourneyed far to the hymeneal altar; the husband who claimed her was ahated, dishonoured man in his own land. They were married in Buda Pesth.All Europe pitied her at the time; there was but one form of prophecy asto her future. There were those who went so far as to say that herfather had delivered her into the hands of a latter-day Bluebeard, whowhisked her off into the highlands many leagues from Vienna.
She was seen no more in the gay courts for a year. Then, of a sudden,she appeared before them all, as dazzlingly beautiful as ever, but witha haunting, wistful look in her dark eyes that could not be mistaken.The old Count found an uneasy delight in exhibiting her to the worldonce more, plainly as a bit of property that all men were expected tolook upon with envy in their hearts. She came up out of the sombrehills, freed from what must have been nothing less than captivity inthat once feudal castle, to prove to his world that she thrived in spiteof prophetic babblers. They danced from court to court, grotesquelymis-mated, deceiving no one as to the true relations that existedbetween them. She despised him without concealment; he took pride inshowing that he could best resent her attitude by the most scrupulousdevotion, so marked that its intent could not be mistaken.
Then the Duke of Perse resumed his residence in Edelweiss, opening theold palace once more to the world. His daughter, after the death of thePrincess, began her extended visits to the home of her girlhood. So longas the Princess was alive she remained away from Edelweiss, reluctant tomeet the friend who had banished her husband long before the weddingday in Buda Pesth. Now she came frequently and stayed for weeks at atime, apparently happy during these escapes from life in the greatcapitals. Here, at least, she was free from the grim old man whosecountess she was; here, all was sweet and warm and friendly, deliciouscontrast to the cold, bitter life she knew on the Danube.
Without warning she came and without farewells she left Edelweiss on theoccasion of these periodical visits. No word was ever spoken concerningher husband, except on the rare occasions when she opened her heart tothe father who had bartered her into slavery for the sake of certainsocial franchises that the Iron Count had at his disposal. The outsideworld, which loved her, never heard of these bitter passages betweenfather and child. Like Cinderella, she sometimes disappeared from joyousthings at midnight; the next heard of her, she was in Vienna, or atSchloss Marlanx.
If the Duke of Perse repented of his bargain in giving his daughter tothe Iron Count, he was never known to intimate as much. He lovedIngomede in his own, hard way. No doubt he was sorry for her. It is afact that she was sorry for him. She could read his bitter thoughts moreclearly than he suspected.
Of late she came more frequently to Edelweiss than before. She was seenoften at the Castle; no court function was complete without the presenceof this lovely noblewoman; no _salon_ worth while unless graced by herwit and her beauty.
John Tullis was always to remember the moment when he looked upon thisexquisite creature for the first time. That was months ago. After thathe never ceased being a secret, silent worshipper at her transientshrine.
Ten o'clock on this rainy night: A carriage has drawn up before thelower gates to the Perse grounds, and a tall, shadowy figure leaves itto hurry through the shrub lined walks to the massive doors. A watchmanin the garden salutes him. The tall figure dips his umbrella inresponse, characteristically laconic. A footman lifts his hand to hisforelock at the top of the steps and throws open the doors withoutquestion. This visitor is expected, it is plain to be seen; acircumstance which may or may not explain the nervousness that attendshim as he crosses the broad hall toward the library.
Tullis had long since ceased to be a welcome visitor in the home of theDuke of Perse. The men were openly unfriendly to each other. The Dukeresented the cool interference of the sandy-haired American; on theother hand, Tullis made no effort to conceal his dislike, if notdistrust, of the older man. He argued--with unofficial and somewhatpersonal authority,--that a man who could trade his only child forselfish ends might also be impelled to sacrifice his country's interestswithout cramping his conscience.
The Countess was alone in the long, warm-tinted library. She stoodbefore the dying embers in the huge old fireplace, her foot upon one ofthe great iron dogs. Her smiling face was turned toward the door as heentered.
"It is good of you to come," she said, as they shook hands warmly. "Doyou know it is almost a year since you last came to this house?"
"It would be a century, Countess, if I were not welcomed in other houseswhere I am sure of a glimpse of you from time to time and a word now andthen. Still, a year's a year. The room hasn't changed so far as I cansee. The same old tiger-skin there, the rugs, the books, thepictures--the leopard's skin here and the--yes, the lamp is just whereit used to be. 'Pon my soul, I believe you are standing just as you werewhen I last saw you here. It's uncanny. One might think you had notmoved in all these months!"
"Or that it has been a minute instead of a year," she supplemented. Hisquick, involuntary glance about him did not escape her understanding."The Duke has gone to Ganlook to play Bridge with friends," she said atonce. "He will not return till late. I have just telephoned--to makesure." Her smile did more than to reassure him.
"Of course, you will understand how impossible it is for me to comehere, Countess. Your father, the Duke, doesn't mince matters, and I'mnot quite a fool." Tullis squinted at the fire.
"Do you think ill of me for asking you to come to-night?"
"Not at all," he said cheerfully, "so long as you are quite sure thatyour father is in Ganlook. He would be perfectly justified in kicking meout if he were to catch me here. And as I'm rather cumbersome and he'ssomewhat venerable, I don't like to think of the jar it would be to hissystem. But, so long as he isn't here, and I am, why shouldn't I draw upa chair before the fire for you, and another for myself, with thecigarettes and a world between us, to discuss conditions as they are,not as they might be if we were discovered? Shall I? Good! I defy anyone's father to get me out of this chair until I am ready to relinquishit voluntarily."
"I suppose you superintended the 'going-to-bed' of Prince Robin beforeyou left the Castle?" she said, lying back in the comfortable chair andstretching her feet out to the fire. He handed her a match and watchedher light the long, ridiculously thin cigarette.
"Yes. I never miss it, Countess. The last thing he does, after sayinghis prayers, is to recall me from exile. He wouldn't be happy if hecouldn't do that. He says ame
n and hops into bed. Then he grins in a farfrom imperial way and announces that he's willing to give me anotherchance, and please won't I tell him the latest news concerningJack-the-giant-killer. He asked me to-night if I thought you'd mind ifhe banished your father. They've had a children's quarrel, I believe. Ifyou do mind, I am to let him know: he won't banish him. He's very fondof you, Countess." She laughed gaily.
"He is a dear boy. I adore him. I think I quite understand why you aregiving up your life to him. At first I wasn't sure."
"You thought I expected to gain something by it, is not that so? Well,there are a great many people who think so still--your father amongthem. They'll never understand. I don't blame them, for, I declare toyou, I don't fully appreciate it myself. John Tullis playing nurse andstory-teller to a seven-year-old boy, to the exclusion of everythingelse, is more than I can grasp. Somehow, I've come to feel that he'smine. That must be the reason. But you've heard me prate on this subjecta hundred times. Don't let me start it again. There's something else youwant to talk to me about, so please don't encourage me to tell all thewonderful things he has said and done to-day."
"It is of the Prince that I want to speak, Mr. Tullis," she said,suddenly serious. "I don't care to hear whether he stubbed his toeto-day or just how much he has grown since yesterday, but I do want totalk very seriously with you concerning his future--I might say hisimmediate future."
He looked at her narrowly.
"Are you quite serious?"
"Quite. I could not have asked you to come to this house for anythingtrivial. We have become very good friends, you and I. Too good, perhaps,for I've no doubt there are old tabbies in Edelweiss who are provoked tocriticism--you know what I mean. Their world is full of imaginaryaffairs, else what would there be left for old age? But we are goodfriends and we understand why we are good friends, so there's the end tothat. As I say, I could not have asked so true a friend into the houseof his enemy for the mere sake of having my vanity pleased by hisobedience."
"I am quite sure of that," he said. "Are you in trouble, Countess? Isthere anything I can do?"
"It has to do with the Prince, not with me," she said. "And yet I am introuble--or perhaps I should say, I am troubled."
"The Prince is a sturdy little beggar," he began, but she lifted herhand in protest.
"And he has sturdy, loyal friends. That is agreed. And yet--" shepaused, a perplexed line coming between her expressive eyes.
John Tullis opened his own eyes very wide. "You don't mean to say thathe is--he is in peril of any sort?"
She looked at him a long time before speaking. He could feel that shewas turning something over in her mind before giving utterance to thethought.
At last she leaned nearer to him, dropping the ash from her cigaretteinto the receiver as she spoke slowly, intensely. "I think he is inperil--in deadly peril."
He stared hard. "What do you mean?" he demanded, with an involuntaryglance over his shoulder. She interpreted that glance correctly.
"The peril is not here, Mr. Tullis. I know what you are thinking. Myfather is a loyal subject. The peril I suggest never comes toGraustark."
She said no more but leaned forward, her face whiter than its wont. Hefrowned, but it was the effect of temporary perplexity. Gradually themeaning of her simple, though significant remark filtered through hisbrain.
"Never comes to Graustark?" he almost whispered. "You don't--you can'tmean your--your husband?"
"I mean Count Marlanx," she said steadily.
"He means evil to Prince Robin? Good Heavens, Countess, I--I can'tbelieve it. I know he is bitter, revengeful, and all that, but--"
"He is all that and more," she said. "First, you must let me impress youthat I am not a traitor to his cause. I could not be that, for thesufficient reason that I only suspect its existence. I am not in anysense a part of it. I do not _know_ anything. I only feel. I dare sayyou realise that I do not love Count Marlanx--that there is absolutelynothing in common between us except a name. We won't go into that. I--"
"I am overjoyed to hear you say this, Countess," he said very seriously."I have been so bold on occasion as to assert--for your private ear, ofcourse--that you could not, by any freak of nature, happen to care forCount Marlanx, whom I know only by description. You have laughed at myso-called American wit, and you have been most tolerant. Now, I feelthat I am justified. I'm immeasurably glad to hear you confess that youdo not love your husband."
"I cannot imagine any one so stupid as to think that I do love CountMarlanx, for that matter, that he loves me. Still, I am relieved to hearyou say that you are glad. It simplifies the present for us, and that iswhat we are to discuss."
"You are very, very beautiful, and young, and unhappy," he saidirrelevantly, a darker glow in his cheeks. She smiled serenely, withouta trace of diffidence or protest.
"I can almost believe it, you say it so convincingly," she said. For amoment she relaxed luxuriantly into an attitude of physical enjoyment ofherself, surveying her toe-tips with a thoughtfulness that comprehendedmore; and then as abruptly came back to the business of the moment. "Youmust not spoil it all by saying it too fervently," she went on with asmile of warning. He gave a short laugh of confusion and sank back inthe chair.
"You have never tried to make love to me," she went on. "That's what Ilike about you. I think most men are silly, not because I am so veryyoung, but because my husband is so ridiculously old. Don't you thinkso? But, never mind! I see you are quite eager to answer--that's enough.Take another cigarette and--listen to what I am going to say." Hedeclined the cigarette with a shake of his head.
After a moment she went on resolutely: "As I said before, I do not knowthat my suspicions are correct. I have not even breathed them to myfather. He would have laughed at me. My husband is a Graustarkian, evenas I am, but there is this distinction between us: he despisesGraustark, while I love her in every drop of my blood. I know that inhis heart he has never ceased to brew evil for the throne that disgracedhim. He openly expresses his hatred for the present dynasty, and hasmore than once said in public gatherings that he could cheerfully assistin its utter destruction. That, of course, is commonly known inGraustark, where he is scorned and derided. But he is not a man to servehis hatred with mere idle words and inaction." She stopped for a moment,and then cried impulsively: "I must first know that you will notconsider me base and disloyal in saying these things to you. After all,he is my husband."
He saw the faint curl of her lip. "Before that," he argued simply, "youwere a daughter of Graustark. You were not born to serve a cause thatmeans evil to the dear land. Graustark first made you noble; you can'tgo back on that, you know. Don't let your husband degrade you. I thinkyou can see how I feel about it. Please believe that I know you can dono wrong."
"Thank you," she said, returning the look in his earnest grey eyes withone in which the utmost confidence shone. "You are the only man to whomI feel sure that I can reveal myself and be quite understood. It isn'tas if I had positive facts to divulge, for I have not; they aresuspicions, fears, that's all, but they are no longer vague shapes tome; they mean something."
"Tell me," he said quietly. He seemed to square his broad shoulders andto set his jaw firmly, as if to resist physical attack. She knew she hadcome with her fears to a man in whose face it was declared that he couldlaugh at substance as well as shadow.
"I am seeing you here in this big room, openly, for the simple reasonthat if I am being watched this manner of meeting may be abovesuspicion. We may speak freely here, for we cannot be heard unless weraise our voices. Don't betray surprise or consternation. The eyes ofthe wall may be better than its ears."
"You don't mean to say you are being watched here in your father'shouse?" he demanded.
"I don't know. This I do know: the Count has many spies in Edelweiss. Heis systematically apprised of everything that occurs at court, in thecity, or in the council chamber. So you see, he is being well served,whether to an evil purpose or to satisfy his own innate curiosity, I
donot know. He has reports almost daily,--voluminous things, partly incipher, partly free, and he is forever sending men away on secret,mysterious missions. Understand, I do not know that he is actuallyplanning disaster to Graustark. Day before yesterday I saw his secretaryin the streets--a man who has been in his employ for five years or moreand who now pretends to be a lawyer here. His name is Brutus. I spokewith him. He said that he had left the Count six weeks ago in Vienna,determined to set out for himself in his chosen profession. He knows, ofcourse, that I am not and never have been in the confidences of myhusband. I asked him if it was known in Edelweiss that he had served theCount as secretary. He promptly handed me one of his business cards, onwhich he refers to himself as the former trusted and confidentialsecretary of Count Marlanx. Now, I happen to know that he is still in myhusband's service,--or was no longer ago than last week."
"My dear Countess, he may be serving him legitimately as an attorney.There would be nothing strange in that."
"But he is still serving him as confidential secretary. He is here for apurpose, as my husband's representative. I have not been asleep allthese months at Schloss Marlanx. I have seen and heard enough toconvince me that some great movement is on foot. My intelligence tellsme that it has to do with Graustark. As he wishes the Prince no good, itmust be for evil." "But there is nothing he can do. He has no followinghere. The Prince is adored by the people. Count Marlanx would not besuch a fool as to--"
"He is no fool," she interrupted quickly. "That's why I am afraid. If heis plotting against the Crown, you may depend upon it he is laying hisplans well. John Tullis, that man is a devil--a devil incarnate." Sheturned her face away.
A spasm of utter repugnance crossed her face; she shuddered so violentlythat his hand went forth to clutch the fingers that trembled on the armof the chair. He held them in his firm grasp for a moment. They lookedinto each other's eyes and he saw the flicker of undisguised horror inhers. An instant later she was herself again. Withdrawing her hand, sheadded, with a short laugh of derision: "Still I did not expect heaven,so why complain."
"But you are an angel," he blurted out.
"I don't believe the Count will agree to that," she said, with areflective twinkle in her dark eyes. "He has not found me especiallyangelic. If you imagine that I cannot scratch back, my dear friend, youare very much mistaken. I have had the pleasure of giving him more thanone bad half hour. You may be sure he has never called me an angel.Quite the other thing, I assure you. But we are straying from thepoint."
"Wait a moment, please," he commanded. "I want to say to you here andnow: you are the gentlest, loveliest woman I have ever known. I don'tsay it idly. I mean it. If you gave him half as good as he sent, Irejoice in your spirit. Now, I want to ask if you expect to go back tolive with the da--with him."
"That, Mr. Tullis, is hardly a matter I can discuss with you," she saidgently, and he was not offended.
"Perhaps not, Countess, but now is the time for you to decide the issue.Why should you return to Castle Marlanx? Why keep up the farce--or Imight say, tragedy--any longer? You love Graustark. You love the Prince.You betray them both by consorting with their harshest foe. Oh, I couldtell you a thousand reasons why--"
"We haven't time for them," she interrupted, with mock despair in herface. "Besides, I said we cannot discuss it. It requires no learnedargument to move me, one way or the other. I can decide for myself."
"You should divorce him," he said harshly.
She laughed easily, softly. "My good friend, if I did that, I'd loseyour friendship." He opened his lips to remonstrate, but suddenly caughtthe undercurrent of the naive remark.
"By Jove," he said, his eyes glowing, "you must not risk finding me tooobtuse."
"Bravo!" she cried. "You are improving."
"I could provide a splendid substitute for the friendship you speak of,"he said coolly.
"Poof! What is that to me? I could have a hundred lovers--but, ach,friends are the scarcest things in the world. I prefer friendship. Itlasts. There! I see disapproval in your face! You Americans are soliteral." She gazed into the fireplace for a moment, her lips parted ina whimsical smile. He waited for her to go on; the words were on hertongue's end, he could tell. "A divorce at twenty-five. I believe thatis the accepted age, isn't it? If one gets beyond that, she--but, enoughof this!" She sprang to her feet and stood before him, the flash dyingin her eyes even as it was born that he might see so briefly. "Wediverge! You must go soon. It is best not to be seen leaving here at avery late hour--especially as my father is known to be away. I am afraidof Peter Brutus. He is here to watch--_everybody_."
She was leaning against the great carved mantel post, a tall, slender,lissome creature, exquisitely gowned in rarest Irish lace, her bare neckand shoulders gleaming white against the dull timbers beyond, the faintglow from the embers creeping up to her face with the insistence of amaiden's flush. He gazed in rapt admiration, his heart thumping likefury in his great breast. She was little more than a girl, this wife ofold Marlanx, and yet how wise, how clever, how brilliant she was!
A face of unusual pallor and extremely patrician in its modelling,surmounted by a coiffure so black that it could be compared only toebony--black and almost gleaming with the life that was in it. It camelow on her forehead, shading the wondrous dark eyes--eyes that were adeep yellowish green in their division between grey and black, eyes thatwere soft and luminous and unwaveringly steadfast, impelling in theirpower to fascinate, yet even more dangerously compassionate when put tothe test that tries woman's vanity.
There were diamonds on her long, tapering fingers, and a rope of pearlsin her hair. A single wide gold band encircled her arm above the elbow,an arm-band as old as the principality itself, for it had been worn bytwenty fair ancestors before her. The noblewomen of Graustark never worebracelets on their wrists; always the wide chased gold band on the upperarm. There was a day, not so far back in history, when they wore bandson their ankles.
She was well named Ingomede, the Beautiful.
A soft, almost imperceptible perfume, languorous in its appeal to thesenses, exuded from this perfect creation; added to this, the subtle,unfailing scent of young womanhood; the warm, alive feel of her presencein the atmosphere; a suggestion of something sensuous, clean, pure,delicious. The undescribable.
"Does Baron Dangloss know this man Brutus?" asked Tullis, arising tostand beside her. A sub-conscious, triumphant thrill shot through him asan instantaneous flash of his own physical superiority over this girl'shusband came over him. He was young and strong and vital. He could feelthe sensation of being strong; he tingled with the glory of it. He wasthirty-five, Marlanx seventy. He wondered if Marlanx had ever been asstrong as he.
"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "I have not spoken to himconcerning Brutus. Perhaps he knows. The Baron is very wise. Let me tellyou how I happen to know that Peter Brutus is still serving CountMarlanx and why I think his presence signifies a crisis of some sort."Tullis stood facing the great fireplace, his back to the hail. Heobserved that she looked toward the doors quite as often as she lookedat him; it struck him that she was extremely cautious despite herapparent ease.
Her voice, always low and even, second lower still. "In the first place,I have a faithful friend in one of the oldest retainers at SchlossMarlanx. His daughter is my maid. She is here with me now. The old mancame to see Josepha one day last week. He had accompanied Count Marlanxto the town of Balak, which is in Axphain, a mile beyond the Graustarkline. Peter Brutus was with my husband in Balak for two days. They werecloseted together from morning till night in the house where Marlanxwas stopping. At the end of two days Brutus went away, but he carriedwith him a vast sum of money provided by my husband. It was given outthat he was on his way to Serros in Dawsbergen, where he expected topurchase a business block for his master. Marlanx waited another day inBalak, permitting Josepha's father to come on to Edelweiss with amessage for me and to see his daughter. He--"
"And Josepha's father saw Brutus in Edelweiss?"
>
"No. But he did see him going into Balak as he left for Edelweiss thatmorning. He wore a disguise, but Jacob says he could not be mistaken.Moreover, he was accompanied by several men whom he recognised asGraustark mountaineers and hunters of rather unsavoury reputation. Theyleft Brutus at the gates of Balak and went off into the hills. All thishappened before I knew that Peter was living in Edelweiss. When I sawhim here, I knew at once that his presence meant something sinister. Ican put many things together that once puzzled me--the comings andgoings of months, the secret reports and consultations, the queerlooking men who came to the Castle, the long absences of my husband andmy--my own virtual imprisonment--yes, imprisonment. I was not permittedto leave the castle for days at a time during his absences."
"Surely you will not go back again"--he began hotly.
"Sh!" She put a finger to her lips. A man-servant was quietly crossingthe hall just off the library. "He is a new man. I do not like hisappearance."
"Do you think he heard us or observed anything? I can make short work ofhim if--" He paused significantly. She smiled up into his face.
"He did not hear anything. We've frightened him off, if he intended toplay the eavesdropper." The servant had disappeared through a door atthe end of the hall.
"Then there were the great sums of money that my husband sent off fromtime to time, and the strange boxes that came overland to the castle andlater went away again as secretly as they came. Mr. Tullis, I amconfident in my mind that those boxes contained firearms and ammunition.I have thought it all out. Perhaps I am wrong, but it seems to me that Ican almost see those firearms stored away in the caves and cabinsoutside of Edelweiss, ready for instant use when the signal comes."
"God! An uprising? A plot so huge as that?" he gasped, amazed. It isfortunate that he was not facing the door; the same servant, passingonce more, might have seen the tell-tale consternation in his eyes. "Itcannot be possible! Why, Dangloss and his men would have scented it longago."
"I have not said that I am sure of anything, remember that. I leave itto you to analyse. You have the foundation on which to work. I'd adviseyou to waste no time. Something tells me that the crisis is near athand."
"Why should Josepha's father tell these things to you?"
"Because, if you will pardon my frankness, I have protected his daughteragainst Count Marlanx. He understands. And yet he would not betray atrust imposed upon him even by the Count. He has only told me what anyone else might have seen with his own eyes. Wait! The new servant is inthe hall again." She clapped her hands sharply and called out "Franz!"
The new man appeared in the doorway almost on the instant. "You mayreplenish the fire, Franz." The man, a sallow, precise fellow, crosseddeliberately and poked the half dead fire; with scrupulous care heselected two great chunks of wood from the hopper near by and laid themon the coals, the others watching his movements with curious interest.There was nothing about the fellow to indicate that he was other thanwhat he pretended to be.
"Isn't it strange that we should have fires in July?" she askedcasually. "The mountain air and the night fogs make it absolutelynecessary in these big old houses."
"We had a jolly fire in the Prince's room when I left the Castle. Ourmonarch is subject to croup, you see."
"That is all, Franz." The man bowed and left the room. "What do youthink of him?" she asked, after a moment.
"He has a very bad liver," was all Tullis deigned to offer in response.The Countess stared for a moment and then laughed understandingly. "Ithink he needs a change."
"I have a strange feeling that he is but one of a great many men who arein Edelweiss for the purposes I mentioned before. Now I have a favour toask of you. Will you take this matter up with Baron Dangloss as if onyour own initiative? Do not mention me in any way. You can understandwhy I ask this of you. Let them believe that the suspicions are yours. Itrust you to present them without involving me."
"Trust me, my dear Countess. I am a very diplomatic liar. You need haveno fear. I shall find a quick way of getting my friend Dangloss on theright track. It may be a wild goose chase, but it is best to be on thesafe side. May I now tell you how greatly I appreciate your confidencein--"
She stopped him with a glance. "No, you may not tell me. There isnothing more to be said."
"I think I understand," he said gently.
"Let us change the subject. I have uttered my word to the wise. Eh bien!It may not be so bad as I think. Let us hope so, at least."
"I have a vague notion that you'd rejoice if we should catch your ogreand chop his head off," said he, coolly lighting a fresh cigarette. Sheliked his assurance. He was not like other men.
Glancing up at his sandy thatch, she said, with a rueful droop at thecorners of her mouth, a contradictory smile in her eyes: "I shallrejoice more if you do not lose your head afterwards."
"_Double entendre_?"
"Not at all."
"I thought, perhaps, you referred to an unhappy plight that alreadycasts its shadow before," he said boldly. "I may lose everything else,my dear Countess, but _not_ my head."
"I believe you," she said, strangely serious. "I shall remember that."
She knew this man loved her.
"Sit down, now, and let us be comfy. We are quite alone," she addedinstantly, a sudden confusion coming over her. "First, will you give methat box of candy from the table? Thank you so much for sending it tome. How in the world do you manage to get this wonderful New York candyall the way to Graustark? It is quite fresh and perfectly delicious."
"Oh, Fifth Avenue isn't so far away as you think," he equivocated. "It'sjust around the corner--of the world. What's eight or nine thousandmiles to a district messenger boy? I ring for one and he fetches thecandy, before you can wink your eye or say Jack Robinson. It's amarvellous system."
He watched her white teeth set themselves daintily in the rich nougat;then the red lips closed tranquilly only to open again in a smile ofrapture. For reasons best known to himself, he chose not to risk losingthe thing he had vowed not to lose. He turned his head--and carefullyinspected the end of his cigarette. A wholly unnecessary precaution, asany one might have seen that it was behaving beautifully.
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she studied his averted face inthat brief instant. When he turned to her again, she was resting herhead against the back of the chair, and her eyes were closed as if inexquisite enjoyment of the morsel that lay behind her smiling lips.
"Are you enjoying it?" he asked.
"Tremendously," she replied, opening her eyes slowly.
"'Gad, I believe you are," he exclaimed. She sat up at once, and caughther breath, although he did not know it. His smile distinctly upset hertranquillity.
"By the way," he added, as if dismissing the matter, "have you forgottenthat on Tuesday we go to the Witch's hut in the hills? Bobby hasdingdonged it into me for days."
"It will be good fun," she said. Then, as a swift afterthought: "Be surethat the bodyguard is strong--and true."