Part 43 (2/2)
I had my papers ready by the time James Perry arrived. I explained first what he was to do with the paper for the Consulate, and added: ”Your father will know where to take the letters for Colonel Katona and Count Karl, James, because he drove them home last night. Send him off with them the moment you get back. Give this letter to the Countess von Ostelen; and this list of clothes to your mother. You are to bring them back here to me.”
”Yes, miss,” he said, as he pocketed them.
”And now I am going to set you a difficult task. You have done me splendid service so far--but you are now going to play me a treacherous shabby, cowardly trick.”
”I hope not,” he said, noticing my smile.
”You will need all your wits; because a great deal hangs upon how you act--all my plans in fact. You took a letter from me this morning to Count Gustav. Did you see him?”
”Yes, for a moment. He took the letter, laughed and seemed rather pleased, and then gave me the message--that he would go to the house at once.”
”You think he would know you again?”
”Oh, yes, I am sure of that.”
”Good. Now, you are going to betray me to him. He is desperately anxious to know the whereabouts of the Countess von Ostelen, and you are going to be scoundrel enough to take advantage of my absence from home to tell him where to find her. It will be hard for your mother's son to be a scoundrel, James, I know.”
”I hope so, miss, with all my heart.”
”But as scoundrels can play at honesty, there's no reason why honest men shouldn't sometimes get a bit of their own back by playing at villainy. You are deeply interested in the troubles of the Countess von Ostelen; you have been shocked by my rather cruel treatment of her; you have heard her ask me again and again to let her leave the house; and your chivalry is roused because I keep her locked in her room.
Realize that part of your feelings, and think it over, because that is the sly hypocrisy on the surface of your conduct.”
”I am afraid I am a bigger rascal than I thought,” he said.
”I am sure you will be to-morrow when you see him. Of course you have another motive--which you understand will be dragged out of you when the Count, who will be suspicious, begins to question you. You want money and a place in the household of the Duke, his father. The dollars will be the main thing. Half the sum down before you open your lips: the rest when you complete the work. That is, the Count is to give it to you when you let him into the house to fetch the lady away.”
”What sum should I name?” he asked with a grin.
”I don't think a thousand dollars would be too much for such information; but this is a poor country, so we'll put it at about half that--fifteen hundred gulden. Your honour is worth more than that, James; but, as good Americans, we must gauge the conditions of the market. Take those letters now, and when you come back I will have ready for you a letter in bad German, which you will copy--telling the Count you are my servant and have something pressing on your conscience--hypocrites always have bulging consciences, James--that it concerns a lady who is a prisoner in my house, and that you will pay him a visit to-morrow at half-past eleven. He has a serious appointment here at twelve; but when you tell him that you can get him into my house just after that hour, he will prefer to keep the appointment with you instead of coming here.”
”I think I can do it all easily. But what am I to do when he comes?”
”I shall be there to welcome him, James. You must contrive so that you do not reach the house until half-past twelve. You can be a quarter of an hour late in going to him; the interview will last quite half an hour--you will be agitated over your villainy, you know, and will have to drive your bargain; and the ride with him to the house will take another quarter of an hour or twenty minutes. Put him into the small drawing-room which looks on to the garden behind and come to me.”
I sent him away then, telling him to think it all over and to ask me any questions necessary when he returned with my clothes.
I drafted a carefully mysterious letter, such as I deemed a scoundrel would write, making much of my conscience, but hinting unmistakably at a money reward; and when he came back we discussed the whole plan in considerable detail.
We were still occupied in this way when Colonel Katona's card was brought to me. I found him looking very haggard and worn with the emotions and incidents of the preceding night; but he held my hand and pressed it very warmly, and the hard eyes as he gazed at me were more like Gareth's than I would have deemed it possible for them to be.
”You have news for me, Miss von Dreschler? It is of my child?” he asked eagerly.
”Yes, it all concerns Gareth, Colonel.”
”You are going to take me to her?”
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