Part 6 (1/2)
Bellamy took her hands in his, gripping them with almost unnatural force.
”Louise,” he declared earnestly, ”you don't quite realize Von Behrling's special weakness and your extraordinary strength. You know that you are beautiful, I suppose, but you do not quite know what that means. I have heard men talk about you till one would think that they were children. You have something of that art or guile--call it what you will--which pa.s.ses from you through a man's blood to his brain, and carries him indeed to Heaven--but carries him there mad. Louise, don't be angry with me for what I say. Remember that I know my s.e.x. I know you, too, and I trust you, but you can turn Von Behrling from a sane, honorable man into what you will, without suffering even his lips to touch your fingers. Von Behrling has that packet in his possession. When I come to see you in London, I will bring you twenty thousand pounds in Bank of England notes. With that Von Behrling might fancy himself on his way to America--with you.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. Perhaps she wished to keep hidden from him the thoughts which chased one another through her brain.
He wished to make use of her--of her, the woman whom he loved.
Then she remembered that it was for her country and his, and the anger pa.s.sed.
”But I am afraid,” she said softly, ”that the moment they reach London this doc.u.ment will be taken to the Austrian Emba.s.sy.”
”Before then,” Bellamy declared, ”Von Behrling must not know whether he is in heaven or upon earth. It will not be opened in London.
He can make up another packet to resemble precisely the one of which he robbed Dorward. Oh! it is a difficult game, I know, but it is worth playing. Remember, Louise, that we are not petty conspirators.
It is your country's very existence that is threatened. It is for her sake as well as for England.”
”I shall do my best,” she murmured, looking into his face. ”Oh, you may be sure that I shall do my best!”
Bellamy raised her fingers to his lips and stole away. The electric lamps had been turned out, but the morning was cloudy and the light dim. Back in his own berth, he put his things together, ready to leave at Munich. Then he rang for the porter.
”I am getting out at the next stop,” he announced.
”Very good, Monsieur,” the man answered.
Bellamy looked at him closely.
”You are a Frenchman?”
”It is so, Monsieur!”
”I may be wrong,” Bellamy continued slowly, ”but I believe that if I asked you a question and it concerned some Germans and Austrians you would tell me the truth.”
The man's gesture was inimitable. Englishmen to him were obviously the salt of the earth. Germans and Austrians--why, they existed as the cattle in the fields--nothing more. Bellamy gave him a sovereign.
”There were three Austrians who got in at Vienna,” he said. ”They are in numbers ten and eleven.”
”But yes, Monsieur!” the man a.s.sented. ”As yet I think they are fast asleep. Not one of them has rung for his coffee.”
”Where are they booked for?”
”For London, Monsieur.”
”You do not happen,” Bellamy continued, ”to have heard them say anything about leaving the train before then?”
”On the contrary, sir,” the porter answered, ”two of the gentlemen have been inquiring about the boat across to Dover. They were very anxious to travel by a turbine.”
Bellamy nodded.
”Thank you very much. You will be so discreet as to forget that I have asked you any questions concerning them. As for me, if one would know, I am on my way to Berlin.”
The bell rang. The man looked outside and put his head once more in Bellamy's coupe.