Part 45 (1/2)

”Vita!”

It was Von Salzinger. His manner was eager and urgent. It also had in it that suggestion of fear of detection which she had witnessed before.

”It is the answer to your letter. I had it this morning, and would have conveyed it you earlier, but I dared not risk it. Now Von Berger is away, and, for the moment, we are safe. So--here it is. Read it quickly and tell me of it. On it depends so much. The future. Our futures. Your father's. Read it.”

But Vita's mood permitted no sudden reaction at the thought of that life and liberty for which she had bartered her soul. She took the letter, and, before opening it, her eyes searched the square features of the well-dined man before her. Her regard was sufficiently cold.

”Where has Von Berger gone?” she demanded.

”To Dorby.”

In a moment the coldness had left Vita's eyes. She was caught again in the hot tide of alarm.

”To Dorby? Have they discovered--my father?”

The hard eyes of the Prussian lowered before the woman's alarm. Then his reply came, conveying a momentary confidence which Vita clung to.

”I can't be sure,” he said. ”But I don't think so. Still it is that possibility which has brought me here now. That, and your letter. There must be no delay if we are to get away. Von Berger has to go elsewhere before he reaches Dorby. He will not reach there until Monday. He will also leave there on Monday, and be back here on Tuesday morning. We must be on the sea before Von Berger reaches Dorby. Now--your letter.

Read it.”

His final order came sharply. There was no request in it.

Vita tore it open. The alarm was still in her eyes, although there had been rea.s.surance in Von Salzinger's words.

For some moments she read down the two pages of the letter. Then she sighed in relief.

”It is all right,” she said, pa.s.sing the sheets across to her companion. ”Read it yourself. He will meet us at the cove on Sunday evening. The submersible will be standing off to pick us up. And--the whole thing remains a secret between us. He has merely told Mr. Farlow that he is going.”

If she were relieved there was no enthusiasm in her manner. Safety was looming ahead, but the price was no less. The Prussian's eyes were raised from the letter and a cold severity looked out of them and shone down upon Vita's unsmiling features.

”It is well. But--you regret?” His gross lips pouted under their severe compression.

”Regret?” Vita pa.s.sed one delicate hand across her brow. It was a movement which expressed something like unutterable weariness. It was almost as if she were beyond caring for consequences. ”It is more than regret,” she said, and the eyes gazing up into Von Salzinger's were as hard as his own.

The man drew a whistling breath. He realized.

”I believe you hate me,” he cried.

Vita shrugged.

”Hate? You are about to give me back my life.”

”Yes.” The man pa.s.sed her back the letter. His monosyllable conveyed nothing. It was the expression of one whose thoughts and feelings are entirely preoccupied. A hot fury was surging through his veins. His vanity was outraged. He wanted to pour out the tide of brutal invective which so naturally rose to his lips. But he drove it back under the powerful lash of almost superhuman restraint.

”But you do hate me,” he said, with simple regret in his heavy voice.

”And I would do anything to change that hate. Why? Why is it? It was not always so. You know the discipline under which we live. All I have done I was compelled to do. Had I not obeyed I could not be here to serve you now. Had I rebelled, and refused to carry out my duty, what hope would there be for you now? None. Farlow could not save you. No one could save you once you were in the clutches of this demon Von Berger. It is only that I have performed my share in your persecution that makes it possible to hold you out a hand of help. You are hard on me--harder than you have any right to be. You would say you are buying your life, I know. Well, do we not buy everything in life? And do we not have to pay a price which always seems exorbitant? The price you are paying; what is it? Wifehood. A future cared for and sheltered by a strong man's hand. Behind you a memory, a memory of that which could never have been fulfilled, because you would have been sacrificed to the discipline of the country which claims you. Ach! it is unreasonable. It is ungenerous. I would give my right hand for your better regard.”

But the man's appeal, his arguments, left Vita unmoved.

”Discussion is useless,” she said firmly. ”We have entered into an agreement which you had power to force upon me. Believe me, I shall not be ungrateful for my father's safety and my own life. But it is a business agreement which makes no demand for the modification of any regard. If my love is demanded, then you must invoke supernatural powers to bring it about. For surely no earthly power could bring about such a revulsion of my feelings. Let us keep to the business.”