By Wit of Woman

  CHAPTER XX

  MY ARREST

  I stepped out into the sunlight glad of the fresh air in contrast tothe dismal closeness of the room. I was quite willing to give CountGustav a few minutes in which to puzzle over the reasons for the trickI had played him.

  He would be quite sure that I had some deep purpose in it all. You canalways gamble on it that cunning people will credit you with cunning;and I had said enough to him to cause him profound uneasiness.

  It took him longer than I had expected to decide upon his next step;for I had already anticipated what that step would be. He would gothrough with the plan of having me arrested. I was certain of that;because it was the only means, short of murdering me, by which he couldensure my silence.

  But the pretext for the arrest was now so flimsy that in making it hewould have many difficulties to face--especially when I brought Generalvon Erlanger on to the scene of action. But before I did that, I hadsome very pointed things to say.

  I was perfectly easy in mind now as to the result of the trouble. Iwas going to win. I felt it. I could afford to be confident; and Itook great care that he should see this for himself.

  I knew presently that he was watching me closely, so I began to singlight-heartedly. I flitted about from bush to bush and gathered alittle bouquet of flowers; and spent some minutes in arranging them,holding them at a distance and viewing them critically with my head onone side--for all the world as though their arrangement were just theone thing that fully engrossed my thoughts.

  Then I carried them into the room and touched the bell, telling thewoman who answered it to bring me some water; and as I placed them in avase I said, as if to myself, and with a nonchalant laugh: "They willbrighten up my cell wonderfully."

  The little prick of the words irritated him and he scowled.

  "I am surprised people call you Gustav of the laughing eyes," Ibantered. "You are very handsome, of course, but I have never heardyou laugh really gaily."

  He forgot sufficiently to swear; and I pretended to be greatly shocked."I hope you are not going to be violent; but I thought it just as wellyou should know there is a woman in the house, and that she should seeyou. Have you got over your disappointment yet--or do you think thebody is in the sofa pillow?"

  It was aggravating of course; the truth, flippantly suggested,frequently is; and he was in that mood when small jibes galled.

  "You are right in the suggestion--I am thinking what may have been donewith my brother's body."

  He thought this would scare and frighten me but I only laughed. "Noyou are not. You are thinking only how you can connect me with whatdidn't occur?"

  "Where is my brother?"

  "Didn't I tell you that Madame d'Artelle fled last night; and did I sayshe went alone?"

  "I don't believe you," he growled, sullenly.

  "'Of the laughing eyes,' indeed," I cried, with a shrug. "Yourlaughter seems to be dead, even if your brother is alive--perhaps it isbecause of that."

  He very nearly swore again; but he was recovering his wits, if not histemper, and managed to sneer instead.

  "The oath would have been more natural," I said, promptly. "But sinceyou are shaking off some of your chagrin, you may be ready to listen tome. I have something to say--to propose."

  "I ought not to listen to you."

  "There is time--until the police come, at any rate. I will confess toone crime--forgery. I wrote that letter to you in Madame d'Artelle'sname. I wished to bring you here at once; and I prepared, carefully,this little stage effect for your benefit. Shall I tell you why?"

  He waved his hand to imply indifference.

  "No, you are not indifferent, Count Gustav. I wished you to understandhow really dangerous I am to you--as well as to witness your brotherlygrief at seeing Count Karl's dead body"--and I touched the sofa pillow.

  He was able to smile now with less effort, and his lip curledcontemptuously.

  "I am dangerous--although I can jest. Your brother is safe, quitesafe, where you will not think to look for him. I knew what youpurposed to do, and I alone prevented it. You don't believe me. Iwill give you proofs. Two days ago when we were at Madame's house youwent to Colonel Katona to tell him I was too indisposed to see him, andyou came and told me you had said that. You did not say that. On thecontrary you told him I would send him the information he needed of theidentity of the man who had wronged Gareth."

  "It is an easy tale," he said, with a shrug.

  "Yes, easier than you frequently find it to tell the truth. Youyourself sent in my name the proofs which the Colonel needed--one ofthe letters which Gareth--little, trusting Gareth,--had written to you,believing you to be your brother--Karl, Count von Ostelen."

  "It is false."

  "I have the letter;" and I held it up before him.

  I got right home with that blow, and all the malignant cruelty in himwas expressed in his eyes as he made a quick but futile attempt tosnatch it from me.

  "It is only another of your forgeries," he said.

  "Gareth will not deny it;" and at that he winced. "You did not nameyour brother--that was too open a course for you--but you told ColonelKatona that the man was going to run away with another woman; and younamed the hour and the place where he might be seen--last night in theRadialstrasse at nine o'clock--and that they were coming to thishouse--'Unter den Linden.' Do you still say it is false?"

  He made no reply, but sat with a scowl tugging at his long fairmoustache.

  "When you led your brother to the carriage last night, you looked aboutyou to make sure that the Colonel was there; and as the carriagestarted, he spoke to you and asked if the man he had seen you put inthe carriage was indeed your brother Karl."

  He shrugged his shoulders again. "You may as well go on."

  "I am going on. Fearing lest, even at the last moment, the plan shouldmiscarry, you came here yourself; and yourself, finding your brotherlying nearly unconscious on the couch, opened the window so that thewatcher in the garden might see where his helpless victim lay; andthen--you left the window open to make his entrance easy and certain."

  "You tell a story well," he said, when I paused. "I told you oncebefore you should write plays. You have admirable imagination." Hewas quite himself again now. He spoke lightly, lit a cigar, and took acouple of turns across the room.

  "It appears to have interested you."

  "Naturally. I suppose now I can pick up the rest from what you saidbefore?"

  "Yes. The sofa pillow has done duty before."

  "A very likely tale, of course--and your witnesses?"

  "No one knows all this except myself."

  "Very fortunate--for them, if not perhaps for you."

  "There is nothing fortunate or unfortunate in it. It is the result ofmy intention. I alone hold the secret, and can make terms with you forkeeping it."

  "I had scarcely dared to hope that. What are your terms?" He put thequestion in a bantering tone.

  "Last time I mentioned three conditions. Two of them are pointlessnow, because Madame d'Artelle has fled and your brother is aware ofyour--shall I term it, policy?"

  "I am not much concerned at your phrases," he snapped.

  "These are no mere phrases. The third condition stands--you must makeGareth your wife, legally."

  "Well?"

  "And the fresh condition is that the mystery of my father's ruin iscleared at once, and justice done to his name."

  "And if I refuse, I suppose you are going to bring all these trumped-upcharges against me. It is almost laughable."

  "I do not think many people will see much humour in it."

  "Possibly not--but then they may never have an opportunity of hearingthe story. You have been very clever--I pay you that compliment--butyou have also been very foolish. You should have made sure that therewas more than your word for all this."

  I gave a little half-nervous start, as though I realized my mistake,and then said, quickly: "I have evidence--this lett
er of Gareth's."

  "You will not have it long, Miss von Dreschler. I could almost besorry for you; in fact I sympathize with you deeply. Your belief inthe imaginary story of your father's wrongs has, I fear, preyed uponyour nerves until they have broken down. He deserved his fate, as themurderer of the young Count Stephen; and now you come here to threatenfirst my brother and then myself. As the daughter of such a man, itwas perhaps to be expected; but it is quite sad."

  "Are you not forgetting what you said when we last spoke of thesubject?"

  "Oh, no, not in the least. I said then that I would do my utmost tohelp you--knowing of course that no help in such a matter could begiven. The truth can only be the truth; but I hoped that time andthought and kindness would lead you to see your delusion. I fear I waswrong."

  I would have laughed, had I not known that I had now to show signs ofnervousness.

  "And Gareth?"

  "You appear to have hidden that poor girl; but she will of course befound and then she too must be convinced of your unfortunate delusions."

  "And will no appeal to your chivalry avail to make you do justice toher? You said you cared for her."

  "I was anxious, and I think, rightly anxious, to soothe what I saw wasa cause of serious and therefore dangerous excitement in you. She alsohas misled you; no doubt inadvertently; and your prejudices against myfamily have warped your judgment until you are really incapable ofseeing anything but what is black in me. I am truly distressed foryou, believe me." His assumption of pity was almost too much for mysense of humour.

  "If by black you mean dishonour and cowardly treachery, I agree. Ithink you are one of the vilest men that ever lived."

  He smiled blandly and spread out his hands. "I am afraid you do; it isvery painful. Happily, others know me better."

  I heard a carriage drive up rapidly, and understood that the crisis hadcome with it. I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter past eleven.I had timed matters aptly.

  I rose, my hand on the inkstand which I had kept all the time inreadiness.

  "So far as we are concerned now and here, Count Gustav, there is nomore to be said. I will take my story to those who will know how toinvestigate it."

  "I am deeply sorry, but you cannot be allowed to leave the house.Those are the agents of the police."

  Footsteps and men's voices were in the hall.

  "They dare not keep me here!"

  "While your delusions remain, I fear they will not let you go. But ifyou give me that letter, I will do what I can for you."

  "If I could believe you," I cried with agitation; and I took anotherpaper from my pocket.

  "I should like to be your friend, and will," he said, hurriedly.

  I gave him the false letter, and cried, "I can escape this way. Detainthem here."

  I ran towards the window, tripped intentionally, and half-falling flungthe inkstand through the glass.

  "Stop," cried Gustav, in a loud voice. "This is not what I want."

  The crash of the glass brought the men into the room, and one of themran and placed himself between the window and me.

  Glancing out, I saw James Perry pass the house, running at full speed.My ruse had succeeded. The signal had been heard, although Gustavsuspected nothing, and all I had now to do was to waste a little timewhile I waited for his Excellency.

  I took advantage of my apparent fall to thrust Gareth's letter into mybosom. Brutal as the police might be, they still had women searched bywomen; and my one piece of tangible evidence was safe for the time.

  I got up, holding my handkerchief to my hand, as though I had cut it infalling, and sitting down breathed hard, as one does in pain oragitation.

  "This lady attempted to escape by the window, Lieutenant Varga, and hasapparently hurt herself in consequence," said Count Gustav, to the manwho was seemingly in charge of the party.

  It was best for me of course to say nothing; so I just gripped my handand swayed backwards and forwards in imaginary pain.

  "It is a case for us then, Excellency?" asked the man.

  "Let your men see that this lady does not leave the room, and I willexplain the matter to you as we go over the house."

  Nothing could have suited me better. The two left the room, and Ithrew myself on the couch. I did not care thirty cents what story heconcocted.

  They were absent a few minutes, and the official returned alone,bringing my hat and cloak.

  "I shall have to ask you to accompany us, madam," he said, with sometouch of pity in his tone. "I have no doubt all can be explained. Butyou have a letter I must ask you to give me."

  "I shall not give it you. And I shall not go with you."

  "You will only make my duty more painful by refusing."

  "I can't help that."

  He signed to his men, and as they came and stood by the couch I heardanother carriage drive up to the door.

  "On second thoughts, I will go with you," I said, and got up.

  "I am obliged to you," was the reply, with a grave bow. He waitedwhile I put on my hat. I was really listening for General vonErlanger's voice. I heard it at length.

  "I am ready," I declared; and he opened the door, only to start back insurprise and to draw himself up stiffly as his Excellency entered.

  "What is this?"

  "Ah, I am glad your Excellency has arrived in time to see me beingarrested as a lunatic," I said, sweetly, as I put my hand in his."Good-bye."

  The General gave me first a grim smile, and then glanced round at thepolice officials.

  Count Gustav, not knowing who had arrived, came in then, and theGeneral turned to him slowly, but with instant appreciation of theposition.

  It was indeed a very interesting situation; and Count Gustav lookedexceedingly uncomfortable.