Part 13 (1/2)

Sharp, quick, keen suspicion flashed out of his eyes, but I was giggling so fatuously that it died away.

”Part of my sorrow and part of my punishment,” he murmured.

I misunderstood him purposely. ”Yes, she always looked on it as a kind of punishment. You see, she loved you so--and then of course we girls, you know what girls are, we used to tease her about it.”

He winced and pa.s.sed his hand across his fretted brows as if in pain.

”You don't know how it hurts me to hear that,” he said, simply. ”G.o.d help me. When did you see her last?”

I knew the anguish at the back of the eager look which came with the question. But I laughed as if I knew nothing. ”Oh, ages ago now.

Months and months--six months quite.”

”Where? My G.o.d, where?”

The question leaped from him with such fierceness, that I jumped up again as if in alarm. ”Oh, Colonel Katona, how you frighten me!”

”No, no, I don't wish to frighten you. But this is everything to me.

Twelve months ago she disappeared from Tyrnau, Miss Gilmore, lured away as I believe by some scoundrel; and I have never seen or heard of her from that time. You have seen her since, you say--and you must tell me everything.”

It was easy to heap fuel on fire that burned like this; and I did it carefully. I affected to be overcome and, clapping hands before my face, threw myself back into my chair.

”You must tell me, Miss Gilmore. You must,” he said, sternly.

”No, no, I cannot. I cannot. I forgot. I--I dare not.”

”Do you know the scoundrel who has done this?”

”Don't ask me. Don't ask me. I dare not say a word.”

”You must,” he cried, literally with terrifying earnestness.

”No, no. I dare not. I see it all now. Oh, poor Gareth. Poor, dear Gareth.”

”You must tell me. You shall. I am her father, and as G.o.d is in heaven, I will have his life if he have wronged her.”

I did not answer but sat on with my face still covered, thinking. I had stirred a veritable whirlwind of wrath in his heart and had to contrive to calm it now so as to use it afterwards for my own ends.

CHAPTER VIII

COUNT KARL

Colonel Katona's impatience mounted fast; and when he again insisted in an even more violent tone that I should tell him all I knew, I had to fall back upon a woman's second line of defence. I became hysterical.

I gurgled and sobbed, choked and gasped, laughed and wept in regulation style; and then, to his infinite confusion and undoing, I fainted. At least I fell back in my chair seemingly unconscious, and should have fallen on the floor, I believe in thoroughness, had he not caught me in his rough, powerful arms and laid me on a sofa.

I can recall to this day the fusty, mouldy smell of that couch as I lay there, while he made such clumsy, crude efforts as suggested themselves to him as the proper remedies to apply. He chafed and slapped my hands, without thinking to take off my gloves; he called for cold water which the soldier servant brought in, and bathed my face; lastly he told the man to bring some brandy, and in trying to force it between my teeth, which I clenched firmly, he spilt it and swore at his own clumsiness.

Then, fearing he would try again and send me out reeking like a saloon bar, I opened my eyes, rolled them about wildly, began to sob again, sat up, rambled incoherently and asked in the most approved fas.h.i.+on where I was.