By Wit of Woman

  CHAPTER IX

  I COME TO TERMS WITH MADAME

  My interview with Karl led to a very disquieting discovery. I sat forsome time thinking about it--and my thoughts increased rather thandiminished my uneasiness.

  To use a very expressive vulgarism one often hears at home, I began tofear that I "had run up against a snag." In other words, I hadmisunderstood the real nature of my feelings for Karl; and thatmiscalculation might cost me dear.

  It was true that when I had seen him at Madame d'Artelle's I had hatedhim cordially; but the reason was clear to me now. It was not my pridethat he had hurt in not recognizing me. It was my anger that he hadstirred--that he should have forgotten me so completely. It looked somuch like the due corollary of his old conduct that I had taken fire.

  And now I found he had not forgotten me at all; and knew that I had wonmy little victory over him because he remembered me so well.

  It was a surprise and a shock; but nothing like the shock it gave me tofind how elated and delighted I felt at the fact. For a time I couldscarcely hold that delight in check. It took the bit in its teeth andran away with my sober common sense. My thoughts very nearly made afool of me again; and I am afraid that I positively revelled in the newknowledge just as any ordinary girl might.

  But, as I had told General von Erlanger, I was not a "usual person;"and I succeeded in pulling up my runaway thoughts in the middle oftheir wild gallop.

  I was no longer in love with Karl. I had settled that years before. Iwas intensely embittered by his conduct; he had behaved abominably tome; had flirted and cheated and fooled me; and I had always felt that Inever could and never would forgive him. His present condition was afitting and proper punishment, and he deserved every minute of it.

  My interest in him now was purely selfish and personal. I had only onething to consider in regard to him--how I could make use of him tosecure justice to my father's reputation, and punishment for the doersof that great wrong.

  Moreover, even if he did care, or thought he still cared for one whomhe had so wronged, and if I were an ordinary girl and magnanimousenough to forgive him, and if, further, I could save him permanentlyfrom the opium fiend, we could never be more than mere friends. Therewas an insuperable barrier between us.

  I knew this from the papers which my father had left behind him. I hadbetter explain it here; for I thought it all carefully over as I satthat morning in the Stadtwalchen.

  There was the great Patriotic movement in the way, of which Karl'sfather, Duke Ladislas, was the head and front. The aim was nothingless than the splitting of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Hungary was tobe made an independent kingdom, and Duke Ladislas was to have thethrone.

  The time to strike the great blow had been decided years before. Itwas to be at the death of the old Emperor. The movement had the widestramifications; and the whole of the internal policy of Hungary wasbeing directed to that paramount object.

  In one of his papers, my father had suggested that the secret of hisruin was part and parcel of this scheme. While Duke Alexinatz and hisson, Count Stephen, lived, the right to the Hungarian throne would betheirs; and thus, Duke Ladislas, a man of great ambition and the soulof the movement, had every reason to welcome Count Stephen's death; andthat death had occurred at a moment when the Austrian Emperor lay soill that his death was hourly expected.

  My father's intellect, impaired as it was by his solitary confinement,could not coherently piece the facts together. Synthetical reasoningwas beyond him for one thing; and for another he could not bringhimself to believe that the man whom beyond all others in the world headmired and trusted, Duke Ladislas, could be guilty of such basenessand crime as the facts suggested. Appalled, therefore, by theconclusions which were being forced upon him, he had abandoned the workin fear and horror.

  I had no such predispositions or prejudices; but as yet I had noproofs. I could only set to work from the other end, and attempt todiscover the agents who had done the deed, and work up through them tothe man whose originating impulse might have been the real first cause.

  But the solid fact remained that Count Stephen's death cleared the wayto the new throne for Duke Ladislas and his sons; and therefore, if Iwere to succeed in killing Karl's opium habit, and even induce him toplay the great part in life open to him, he would be the heir to thethrone, when gained, and I impossible except as a friend.

  Two days before, nay two hours before, I should have asked and desiredno more than that; but after this talk with Karl--and at that moment Istamped my foot in impotent anger, and wrenching my thoughts away fromthat part of the subject, got up and walked hurriedly away in thedirection of Madame d'Artelle's house.

  I arrived as she was sitting down to lunch, and she gave me a veryfrigid reception. I saw that she had passed a very uncomfortablemorning. She had been weeping, and having found in her tears nosolution of the problem I had set her, was sullen and depressed.

  "You have been out, Christabel?"

  "Yes, completing my plans."

  "What a knack you have developed of making spiteful speeches! I had noidea you could be so nasty."

  "What is there spiteful in having plans to complete?"

  "I suppose they are aimed at me!"

  "My dear Henriette, must I not be careful to have some place to go andlive in? Be reasonable."

  "You always seem to have some undercurrent in what you say. It'spositively hateful. What do you mean by that?"

  "Some of us Americans have a trick of answering one question withanother. I think I'll do that now. What do you think I'd better dowhen you are gone?"

  "I don't understand that either," she said very crossly.

  "I mean to-morrow."

  "I am not going anywhere to-morrow." She could lie glibly.

  "That may be nearer the truth than you think; but you have planned togo away to-morrow--with Count Karl."

  "Preposterous."

  "So I think--but true, all the same. You are very foolish to attemptto hoodwink me, Henriette. You are thinking of trying to deny what Isay. I can see that--but pray don't waste your breath. I told youthis morning that in an hour or two I should know everything. I donow."

  "Have you seen Count Karl?"

  "Do you think I should tell you how I find out things? So long as I dofind them out, nothing else matters. But I will tell you something.You will not go, Henriette. I shall not allow it."

  "Allow?" she echoed, shrilly.

  "I generally use the words I mean. I said 'allow'--and I mean no otherword. I shall not allow it."

  She let her ill temper have the reins for a minute, and broke out intoa storm of invective, using more than one little oath to point herphrases. I waited patiently until her breath and words failed her.

  "I am glad you have broken out like that. There's more relief in itthan tears. Now I will tell you what I mean to do--and to do to-day.I have had inquiries made in Paris for M. Constans, and a wire from mewill bring him here in search of you. You know what that means;" Iadded, very deliberately, as I saw her colour change. I guessed therewas ground for the bluff that I knew much more than my words expressed.

  "I don't believe you," she managed to stammer out--her voice quitechanged with fear.

  "Your opinion does not touch me. In your heart you know I never lie,Madame--and for once you may trust your heart. If you force me, thattelegram will go to-day. Nor is that all. I will go to Duke Ladislasand tell him the story of the lost jewels, and who instigated the theftand received the stolen property."

  "They have been given back; besides, will he prosecute his own son?"

  "The theft shall be published in every paper, and with it the story ofhow Count Karl has been ruined by opium drugging. By whom, Madame--bythe secret agent of the French Government, the ex-spy of the Parispolice--Madame Constans? You can judge how Austrian people will readthat story."

  She had no longer any fight left in her. I spoke without a note ofpassion in my voice; and every w
ord told. She sat staring at me, whiteand helpless and beaten.

  "More than that and worse than that----"

  "I can bear no more," she cried, covering her face with tremblingfingers.

  I don't know what more she thought I was going to threaten to do. Iknew of nothing more; so it was fortunate she stopped me. She was intruth so frightened that if I had threatened to have her hanged, Ithink she would have believed in my power to do it.

  "Why do you seek to ruin me? What have I done to make you my enemy?"she asked at length.

  "I do not seek to ruin you, and I will be your friend and not yourenemy, if you trust instead of deceiving me. I will save you fromCount Gustav's threats."

  "How can you?"

  "What matters to you how, so long as I do it?"

  "He knows all that you know."

  "What, that you are here to betray the leaders of the Hungariannational movement to your French employers and their Russian allies?"

  "_Nom de Dieu_, but how I am afraid of you?" she cried.

  "If I tell him that how will it fare with you?"

  "No no, you must not. I will do all you wish. I will. I will. Iswear it on my soul."

  "Tell me then the details of the elopement to-morrow. I know enough totest the truth of what you say; and if you lie, I shall do all I havesaid--and more."

  "I will not lie, Christabel. I am going to trust you. It is arrangedfor to-morrow night. I leave the house here at nine o'clock in acarriage. At the end of the Radialstrasse Count Karl will join me. Wedrive first to a villa in Buda, behind the Blocksberg--a villa called'Unter den Linden.' We are to be married there; and on the followingday we cross the frontier into Germany and go to Breslau."

  She said it as if she had been repeating a lesson, and finished with adeep-drawn sigh.

  "Is he coming to-day?"

  "No."

  "To-morrow?"

  "No."

  "Ah. That is to convince me that all is broken off?"

  "Yes." She was as readily obedient as a child.

  "Count Gustav is coming to-day?"

  "Yes. This afternoon at four o'clock. To settle everything."

  "Good. You will see him and be careful to act as though everythingwere as it was left when you saw him yesterday."

  "I dare not."

  "You must. Everything may turn upon that. You must."

  "But if he suspects?"

  "You must prevent that. I shall see him afterwards. If you let himsuspect or if you play me false, I shall know; and the consequenceswill not be pleasant for you. You will tell Count Gustav not to seeyou to-morrow, because you are afraid I shall guess something; and thatif he has to communicate with you, he must write. It is the only wayin which I can save you from him."

  "And what am I to do afterwards?"

  "I will tell you to-morrow. Be assured of this. I and those whosepower is behind me will see not only that no harm comes to you, butthat you are well paid."

  "I am giving up everything."

  "It is no time to bargain. What you are giving up in reality is therisk of a gaol and the certainty of exposure and ruin--and worse."

  "Mother of Heaven, have mercy on me!" she cried.

  I did not stop to hear her lamentations. It was two o'clock already.I had still many things to fix, and I must be back in the house soonafter Count Gustav reached it. The fur was to fly in my interview withhim; and I must have all my claws sharp.

  I did not make the mistake of underestimating his strength as anadversary. I should have to use very different means with him fromthose which had sufficed to frighten Madame d'Artelle; and I must havethe proofs ready to produce. I was going to change his presenthalf-contemptuous suspicion into open antagonism; and that he could andwould be a very dangerous enemy, I did not allow myself to doubt.

  My first step was to find the house in Buda of which Madame d'Artellehad spoken. It was a bright pleasant house in a pretty, carefully keptgarden; not more than a mile from the villa I myself had just rented.But to my surprise it was occupied: a girl was playing with a couple ofdogs on the lawn. My first thought was that Madame had misled me; mysecond, to try and ascertain this for myself.

  I entered the garden and walked toward the house, and the dogs camescampering across barking. The girl turned and followed them.

  "Your garden is beautiful," I said, with a smile. "If the house is asmuch beyond the description of it as the garden, it will suit meadmirably."

  "You came to take the house?" she asked.

  "Yes, I have a letter here--let me see, oh, this is my list--ah,yes--'Unter den Linden.' Is not that the name?" and taking a slip ofpaper from my pocket I pretended to consult it.

  "Yes, this is 'Unter den Linden'--those are the trees;" and she pointedto the limes which gave the name. "But I am afraid you are too late.I think it is let."

  I was overcome with disappointment; but perhaps she would ask hermother. We went into the house and she left me in the dining-room.Presently the mother came; a tired looking creature who had once beenpretty, like the girl, but was now frayed and worn. She was verysorry, but the house was let. I was just too late. It had only beenlet the previous day. Did I want it for long?

  "Not more than twelve months certain," I told her.

  She threw up her hands. "Just my ill-luck," she cried, dismally. "Ihave let it for two months, and we go out this evening. But perhaps Icould get out of it."

  "That is not worth while. I should not want it for a month yet, andperhaps could wait for two. Could I see over the house?"

  In this way I was taken into every nook and corner of it; and enabledto fix every room and passage and door in my memory. And then Iinspected the garden and outside places.

  "Do you leave your servants?" I asked, at the end of a number ofquestions.

  "We keep but one. My daughter and I live alone, and do most of thework when we are at home. And the servant goes away with us."

  "An excellent arrangement. I have my own servants. I wonder now if wecould induce your tenant to let me have the place in a month. Who ishe?"

  "It is taken for Count von Ostelen--but I do not know him. The agentshave done everything. I could ask them."

  "Do so, and let me know;" and I jotted down at random a name andaddress to which she could write, and left.

  I had done well so far; and I drove rapidly to my own house in goodspirits over my success.

  There was only one point which puzzled me. Why had that name, Countvon Ostelen, been used? Was it merely as the name in which Count Karlusually travelled incognito? Just as he had used it in New York? Orhad his brother some other motive?

  It was only a trifle, of course; but then, as I have said, I amaccustomed to take some trifles seriously.

  If I could have seen a little farther ahead, I should have taken thisone even more seriously than usual; and should not have dismissed itfrom my thoughts as I did when I reached my house and was kissingGareth in response to the glad smile with which she greeted me.

  My next step concerned her.