Part 69 (1/2)
”I should think so,” replied Mr. Schmenckel, and cleared his throat.
”Had we better go over it once more?”
”Might do no harm,” replied Mr. Schmenckel.
”You will say, then, that you are sorry to have caused the princess so much trouble. You, yourself, would never have thought of it; but that man--how did you call him?”
”Timm!”
”----had led you on! Now you had found out that such proceedings were not worthy of an honest man, and, that you promised the princess, upon your honor, never to let another word of that whole affair escape your lips.”
”My lips!” repeated Mr. Schmenckel, like a school-boy who repeats a lesson the teacher tells him to say after him.
”And as for that man, Timm, you will tell the princess not to trouble herself about him; but, if he should come and ask for money, to have him turned out of the house by the servants. As you do not intend to support him in any way, he cannot expect to make much out of the story.
Have you got it all well in your head now?”
”I think it will do,” said Mr. Schmenckel, meditatively.
”And, above all, you will accept no money from the princess, neither much nor little. Don't forget that; do you hear?”
”All right!” said the director, putting his hat on his head with a great show of resolution. ”Adieu, professor!”
”Adieu!” said Berger, shaking hands. ”Go and become once more the honest, upright man you have been heretofore.”
”And now,” said Berger to himself, when the door had closed after Schmenckel; ”now the moment has come to pay an old debt.” He went to a bureau and took from a drawer a small box of ebony and a medallion.
Then he left the room and went down the pa.s.sage till he came to a door, before which he stopped, listening for a moment. The key was in the key-hole. Berger noiselessly drew it out and knocked.
”_Entrez!_” cried a shrill voice.
Berger entered.
The man he came to see stood with his back to the door, before a looking-gla.s.s, busy finis.h.i.+ng his toilet. He turned round, thinking it was a waiter. The new comer cast a rapid look around the room, locked the door quickly and noiselessly from within, and then went to the middle of the room.
”What do you want?” asked Count Malikowsky, still busy with his cravat.
”My name is Berger. I have already told you what I want.”
”If you have any demand upon me you can speak to my valet. I do not trouble myself with such things.”
”I know very well,” said Berger, without changing a feature, ”that Count Malikowsky likes best to have demands which are presented to him in person attended to by others, even by a.s.sa.s.sins, if needs be; but this time I trust he will make an exception.”
With these words he approached the round table in the centre of the room, placed the little box on it, and took from the box the two pistols which it contained.
The count had witnessed these proceedings with an amazement which made him for a time speechless and motionless. The sight of the pistols, however, brought him to his senses again. With a rapidity which one would not have thought possible at his age he hastened to the door.
Berger stepped in his way, the pistols in his hand.
”One more effort to escape,” he said, ”one sound, and you die like a dog! Stand over there, on the other side of the table; so!”
”The man is mad!” murmured the count, obeying Berger's command and trembling in all his limbs.