Part 14 (1/2)

”I can't understand you,” he said. ”Can you tell me anything about Gareth, when you saw her last?”

”Not much, I'm afraid. I have such a silly memory. It must be quite six months ago--yes, because, I had this hat new; and I've had it quite six months.”

”Where was it?” he asked, growing keener again.

”Karlsbad; no, Marienbad; no, Tyrnau; no, Vienna; I can't remember where it was, but I have it down in my diary. I could let you know.”

”Did she--she speak of me?”

”Oh yes. She said she was happy and would have been quite happy if only she could have let you know where she was.”

”Why couldn't she?”

”I suppose he wouldn't let her; but I'm sure----”

”What he? For heaven's sake, try to speak plainly, Miss Gilmore. Do you mean she was with any one?”

”I don't know. I only know what we thought. Oh, don't look like that or I can't say any more.”

His eyes flashed fire again. ”Tell me, please,” he murmured restraining himself.

”We thought she had run away with him.” I said that seriously enough.

He paused, nerving himself for the next question. It came in a low, tense, husky voice. ”Do you mean she was--married?”

I hung my head and was silent.

”'Fore G.o.d, if any one, man or woman dares to hint shame of my child----” he burst out, and stopped abruptly.

It was time to be serious again, I felt, as I answered, ”I love Gareth dearly, and would say no shame of her. If I can help you to find her and learn the truth, will you have my help?”

”Help me, and all I have in the world shall be yours. And if any one has wronged her, may I burn in h.e.l.l if I do not make his life the penalty.” The vehement, concentrated earnestness of the oath filled me with genuine awe.

A tense pause followed, and then, recovering myself, I began to display anew my symptoms of hysterics. This time I was not going to get well enough to be able to speak of the matter farther; and I declared I must go away.

I was going to play a dangerous card; and when he asked me when he should see me again, I told him that if he would come that afternoon to me--I gave him Madame d'Artelle's address--I would tell him all I could.

I went away well satisfied with the result of my visit; and then planned my next step. It was to be a bold one; but the crisis called for daring; and if I was to win, I must force the moves from my side.

I walked back, glad of the exercise and the fresh air, and as I was pa.s.sing through the Stadtwalchen, busily occupied with my thoughts, I met Count Karl. He was riding with an attendant and his look chanced to be in my direction. He stared as if trying to recollect me, then he bowed. I responded, but he pa.s.sed on; and I concluded he had not placed my features in his muddled memory. But a minute later I heard a horse cantering after me; and he pulled up, dismounted, and held out his hand.

”You are Madame d'Artelle's friend, Miss Gilmore?”

”Yes,” I said, scarce knowing whether to be glad or sorry he had come after me.

”May I walk a few steps with you?”

”Certainly, if you wish.”

”Take the horses home,” he said as he gave the reins to the servant.