Part 42 (1/2)
Suddenly she resumed her seat, and continued in a quieter voice:
”But the brother found out the shameful secret. You could overreach me, but not the brother; and fresh from accounting to him for your conduct, you must needs stumble into my presence with Lady Tracy's name upon your lips, and doubtless some new explanation ready.”
”Madame, that is not so. I came that evening to tell you what I have told you to-night, but you would not hear me. You bade me come to Lukstein. I know now why, and 'twas doubtless for the same reason that you locked the door when I had swooned.”
She started as I mentioned that incident.
”'Twas not on Lady Tracy's account, or because of any conduct of mine towards her, that I fought Marston. Against his will I compelled him to fight, as Lord Elmscott will bear out. He had learned by whose hand Count Lukstein died, and rode after you to Bristol that he might be the first to tell you; and I was minded to tell you the story myself.”
”Or, at all events, to prevent him telling it,” she added, with a sneer. ”But how came Mr. Marston to learn this fact?”
I was silent. I could not but understand that the Countess presumed her husband, Lady Tracy, and myself to be bound together by some vulgar intrigue, and I saw how my answer must needs strengthen her suspicions.
”How did he find out?” she repeated. ”Tell me that!”
”Lady Tracy informed him,” I answered, in despair.
”Then you admit that Lady Tracy knew?”
”I told her of the duel myself, on the very morning that I first met her--on the morning that I introduced her into your house.”
”And why did she carry the news to her brother?”
Again I was silent, and again she pressed the question.
”She was afraid of you, and she sought her brother's protection,”
Every word I uttered seemed to plead against me. ”I understand now why she was afraid. I did not know her miniature was in that case, but doubtless she did, and she was afraid you should connect her with Count Lukstein's death.”
”Whereas,” replied the Countess, ”she had nothing to do with it?”
I had made up my mind what answer I should make to this question when it was put. Since I had plainly lost Ilga beyond all hope, I was resolved to spare her the knowledge of her husband's treachery.
'Twould not better my case--for in truth I cared little what became of me--to relate that disgraceful episode to her, and 'twould only add to her unhappiness. So I answered boldly:
”She had nothing to do with it.”
The Countess sat looking at me without a word, and I was bethinking me of some excuse by which I might explain how it came about that Lady Tracy's portrait and not Julian's was in the box, when she bent forward, with her face quite close to mine, so that she might note every change in my expression.
”And the footsteps in the snow; how do you account for them? The woman's footsteps that kept side by side with yours from the parapet to the window, and back again from the window to the parapet?”
I uttered a cry, and setting my feet to the ground, raised myself up in the settle.
”The footsteps in the snow? They were your own.”
The Countess stared at me vacantly, and then I saw the horror growing in her eyes, and I knew that at last she believed me.
”They were your own,” I went on. ”I knew nothing of Count Lukstein's marriage. I had never set eyes on him at all. I knew not 'twas your wedding-day. I came hither hot-foot from Bristol to serve my friend Sir Julian Harnwood. He had quarrelled with the Count, and since he lay condemned to death as one of Monmouth's rebels, he charged me to take the quarrel up. In furtherance of that charge, I forced Count Lukstein to fight me. In the midst of the encounter you came down the little staircase into the room. I saw you across the Count's shoulder.
The curtain by the window hangs now half-torn from the vallance. I tore it clutching its folds in my horror. We started asunder, and you pa.s.sed between us. You walked out across the garden and to the Castle wall. Madame, as G.o.d is my witness, when once I had seen you, I wished for nothing so much as to leave the Count in peace. But--but----”
”Well?” she asked breathlessly.