Part 37 (1/2)

”No, thank you, James. I am only tired and am going to bed. Stay up until your father comes back with the carriage. Then go to bed yourself, but let him sit up for the rest of the night. I shall sleep more soundly if I know some one is watching. You must be up early, as I shall need you.”

I yawned as if I were very sleepy--one has to keep one's end up, even before one's servants--and bade him good-night. I was turning from the room when my eye chanced on the ribbon favour which Karl had left lying there.

Fortunately James had left the room; for the sight of it struck all thought of pretence out of my mind. I was very silly; but it seemed in an instant to rouse a vivid living consciousness of all that I had voluntarily given up, and yet might have retained by a mere word.

I was only a girl then indeed; and the tears came rus.h.i.+ng to my eyes and set the little ribbon dancing and quivering and trembling in my sight.

I dashed them away and, thrusting the little mocking token into my bosom, I ran out of the room as hurriedly as though I were rus.h.i.+ng to escape from the sad thoughts of that other Christabel of whom Karl had spoken.

CHAPTER XIX

A TRAGI-COMEDY

The following morning found me in a saner mood once more, and I lay for an hour thinking and planning.

I hold that there are narcotics for mental pain just as for physical; and if the mind is healthy and the will resolute, one can generally be found. I had to find one then.

I did not make the mistake of attempting to underrate my loss. I knew I had had to give up what I prized more than anything in life. I loved Karl with my whole heart; I knew indeed that I had never ceased to love him. The sweetest future which Fate could have offered me would have been to pa.s.s life by his side as his wife.

But the pain of knowing that this was impossible was now mingled with other emotions which tended to relieve it. There is always a pleasure in self-sacrifice, no matter how dear the thing renounced. I found a sort of subtle comfort now in the thought that I had been strong enough to do the right thing; to put away from me firmly the delights I would have given half my life to enjoy; to act from a higher motive than mere personal desire.

The sense of self-denial was thus my mental narcotic; and I sought with all my strength to dwell upon the intense gratification of the knowledge that I had been instrumental in helping Karl at the crucial crisis of his life. His country had need of him; and that he would now play his part manfully, would be in a degree my work. That was my consolation.

I could claim truthfully that no selfish motives had swayed me. The clearance of my father's good name had ceased now to be more than a solemn duty to him. The loss of Karl had rendered me indifferent to any considerations merely personal to myself.

In regard to Gareth, too, my chief desire was to see justice done her.

Accident, or perhaps rather Fate, had put into my hands the weapons with which to fight the man who was menacing both her and me; and I could claim to have made no selfish use of them. The thought of her brought back with it the necessity to gather up the threads and carry my purpose to success. The end was not far off now.

I had first to antic.i.p.ate what Count Gustav would do after the stroke he had meant to deal the previous night. I was convinced that he had plotted nothing less than that Colonel Katona should kill Karl under the belief that he had wronged Gareth.

I could follow the steps which had led to this. When, at Madame d'Artelle's, I had let Count Gustav see the Colonel alone, he had given a false message that I would send the information. Having thus prepared him to expect news, he had written him in my name that the man who had wronged Gareth was about to marry another woman, and had given such details of the elopement as would enable the Colonel to witness it and thus identify the man he sought.

This explained something that had puzzled me--why the pretence of the elopement had been persisted in when my apparent departure had destroyed the necessity for any such secrecy. The elopement had become a vital part of the subtle scheme to reveal Gareth's betrayer to her father.

Then to give countenance to it all, Count Gustav had sent as if from me the letter of Gareth's which the Colonel had brought with him and given to me. I read it now. It was to Count von Ostelen, of course; and in it Gareth poured out her tender heart to the husband she knew and addressed as Karl.

It was a cunningly planned scheme; and had Madame d'Artelle really come to the villa, it would almost certainly have succeeded. But the question now was--What would be Count Gustav's next move?

He would believe that Karl was dead--a.s.sa.s.sinated by the Colonel in his frenzy. That started another suggestion. If murder had been done, all in the house would have been implicated; and Count Gustav was quite capable of using the deed for a further purpose. He would have had the Colonel arrested for the murder and so prevented from causing further trouble; and he would also have got rid of Madame d'Artelle, the accomplice he had used for his brother's undoing, by charging her with complicity in the crime. His path would then have been free indeed.

He had frightened me away from the city, as he believed; and if I ever returned it would be only to find everything buried in that secrecy which those in power and high places know how to secure.

What would he do when he came to the house and found me there alone and helpless to resist him? I could not doubt for an instant. I should be arrested on some charge and shut up until I disclosed to him Gareth's whereabouts and everything I knew of the matter.

I would act on that presumption--except that I would force his hand in one direction and safeguard myself in another.

I rose and dressed myself hurriedly. I knew Madame d'Artelle's handwriting, and with great pains I imitated it as closely as I could in a brief, but to him very significant note.