Part 18 (1/2)

”Ah. That is to convince me that all is broken off?”

”Yes.” She was as readily obedient as a child.

”Count Gustav is coming to-day?”

”Yes. This afternoon at four o'clock. To settle everything.”

”Good. You will see him and be careful to act as though everything were as it was left when you saw him yesterday.”

”I dare not.”

”You must. Everything may turn upon that. You must.”

”But if he suspects?”

”You must prevent that. I shall see him afterwards. If you let him suspect or if you play me false, I shall know; and the consequences will not be pleasant for you. You will tell Count Gustav not to see you to-morrow, because you are afraid I shall guess something; and that if he has to communicate with you, he must write. It is the only way in which I can save you from him.”

”And what am I to do afterwards?”

”I will tell you to-morrow. Be a.s.sured of this. I and those whose power is behind me will see not only that no harm comes to you, but that you are well paid.”

”I am giving up everything.”

”It is no time to bargain. What you are giving up in reality is the risk of a gaol and the certainty of exposure and ruin--and worse.”

”Mother of Heaven, have mercy on me!” she cried.

I did not stop to hear her lamentations. It was two o'clock already.

I had still many things to fix, and I must be back in the house soon after Count Gustav reached it. The fur was to fly in my interview with him; and I must have all my claws sharp.

I did not make the mistake of underestimating his strength as an adversary. I should have to use very different means with him from those which had sufficed to frighten Madame d'Artelle; and I must have the proofs ready to produce. I was going to change his present half-contemptuous suspicion into open antagonism; and that he could and would be a very dangerous enemy, I did not allow myself to doubt.

My first step was to find the house in Buda of which Madame d'Artelle had spoken. It was a bright pleasant house in a pretty, carefully kept garden; not more than a mile from the villa I myself had just rented.

But to my surprise it was occupied: a girl was playing with a couple of dogs on the lawn. My first thought was that Madame had misled me; my second, to try and ascertain this for myself.

I entered the garden and walked toward the house, and the dogs came scampering across barking. The girl turned and followed them.

”Your garden is beautiful,” I said, with a smile. ”If the house is as much beyond the description of it as the garden, it will suit me admirably.”

”You came to take the house?” she asked.

”Yes, I have a letter here--let me see, oh, this is my list--ah, yes--'Unter den Linden.' Is not that the name?” and taking a slip of paper from my pocket I pretended to consult it.

”Yes, this is 'Unter den Linden'--those are the trees;” and she pointed to the limes which gave the name. ”But I am afraid you are too late.

I think it is let.”

I was overcome with disappointment; but perhaps she would ask her mother. We went into the house and she left me in the dining-room.