Part 12 (1/2)
Otto rose promptly to obey. He was rather thoughtful. His brother had put a completely new idea into his head.
Presently the red volume was discovered and laid open on the desk before the Chancellor, who slowly turned to the required page. As his eye fell upon a long line of De Courcys, his face changed, and the bristling brows drew together in a straight line. At least, these women did not appear to be adventuresses, in the ordinary acceptation of the term.
There they were; his square-tipped finger found and pressed down upon the printed names, with a dig that symbolized its disposition toward their claimants.
”The girl's mother is the widow of Sir Thomas, sixth Baron de Courcy,”
the Chancellor mumbled half-aloud. ”Son, Thomas Alfred--um--um--um-- twelve years old; daughter, Gladys Irene Mary Katherine, twenty-eight.
Humph! She's no chicken; she ought to have better sense.”
”Twenty-eight!” echoed Otto. ”I'll be _hanged_ if she's twenty-eight.”
”She doesn't look it?”
”Not a day more than eighteen. Might be younger. I never was so surprised to learn a woman's age. By the way, I heard her telling Von Lynar last night, _a propos_ of our great Rhaetian victory in that month and year, that she was born in June, '79. If so she would now have been twenty-one. It was difficult to believe her even as much.
When she'd spoken, I remember she gave a sudden start and blush, looking across the room at her mother, as though she were frightened.
I suppose she hoped there was no copy of this great red book at Lynarberg.”
”That thought might have been in her mind,” grunted the Chancellor, ”or----” He left his sentence unfinished, and sat, with prominent, unseeing eyes fixed in an owlish stare on the open page of Burke.
”Did you really mean what you said a few minutes ago about my marriage?” Otto ventured to attract his brother's attention. ”Because if you did----”
”If I did--what then?”
”I might--try to please you in my choice of a wife.”
”Be more explicit. You mean you would endeavour to show this Miss de Courcy that a bird in the hand is worth an Emperor in the bush--a bramble bush at that?”
”Yes, I would do my best. I have--er--some advantages.”
”You have. And I was on the point of suggesting that you should make the most of them in her eyes, before--_you brought me this book_.” The large forefinger tapped the page of De Courcys, while two grim lines of dogged purpose framed the Chancellor's long-lipped mouth.
”And now you've changed your mind?” There was a distinct note of disappointment in ”handsome Otto's” voice.
”I don't say that. I merely say, 'Wait'. Make yourself as indispensable to the lady as you choose; that is, on your own responsibility; but don't pledge yourself, and don't count upon my promise or my money, until you hear again. By that time--well, we shall see what we shall see. Keep your hand in; but wait--wait.”
”How long am I to wait? If the thing is to be done at all, it must be done soon. Meanwhile, the Emperor makes all the running.”
The Chancellor looked up, his eyes introspective, his fist still covering the De Courcys.
”You are to wait until I have had answers to a couple of telegrams I shall send to-night.”
CHAPTER IX
A WHITE NIGHT
”You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorly satisfy our eyes