Part 32 (2/2)

”At the usual rate of interest, you understand.”

”Certainly,” I said, and resumed my calculations. He got the impression that I was annoyed by the interruption.

”I beg your pardon,” he said.

”What security can you give, Mr. Pless?” I demanded in a very business-like way.

”Oh, you Americans!” he cried, his face beaming with premature relief.

”You will pin us down, I see. I do not wonder that you are so rich. I shall give you my personal note, Mr. Smart, for the amount, secured by a mortgage--a supplementary mortgage--on the Chateau Tarnowsy.”

Tarnowsy! Now I remembered everything. Tarnowsy! The name struck my memory like a blow. What a stupid dolt I had been! The whole world had rung wedding bells for the marriage of the Count Maris Tarnowsy, scion of one of the greatest Hungarian houses, and Aline, the nineteen-year-old daughter of Gwendolen and Jasper t.i.tus, of New York, Newport, Tuxedo, Hot Springs, Palm Beach and so forth. Jasper t.i.tus, the banker and railway magnate, whose name as well as his hand was to be seen in every great financial movement of the last two decades!

What a fool I was not to recall a marriage that had been not only on the lips of every man, woman and child in the States but on mine in particular, for I had bitterly execrated the deliverance into bondage of this young girl of whose beauty and charm I had heard so much.

The whole spectacular travesty came back to me with a rush, as I sat there in the presence of the only man who had ever been known to get the better of Jasper t.i.tus in a trade. I remembered with some vividness my scornful att.i.tude toward the newspapers of the metropolis, all of which fairly sloshed over with the news of the great event weeks beforehand and weeks afterward. I was not the only man who said harsh things about Jasper t.i.tus in those days. I was but one of the mult.i.tude.

I also recalled my scathing comments at the time of the divorce proceedings. They were too caustic to be repeated here. It is only necessary to state that the proceedings came near to putting two friendly nations into very bad temper. Statesmen and diplomats were drawn into the mess, and jingo congressmen on our side of the water introduced sensational bills bearing specifically upon the international marriage market. Newspaper humourists stood together as one man in advocating a revision of the tariff upward on all foreign purchases coming under the head of the sons of old masters. As I have said before I did not follow the course of the nasty squabble very closely, and was quite indifferent as to the result. I have a vague recollection of some one telling me that a divorce had been granted, but that is all. There was also something said about a child.

My pleasant little mystery had come to a sharp and rather depressing end. The lovely countess about whom I had cast the veil of secrecy was no other than the much-discussed Aline t.i.tus and Mr. Pless the expensive Count Tarnowsy. Cold, hard facts took the place of indulgent fancies.

The dream was over. I was sorry to have it end. A joyous enthusiasm had attended me while I worked in the dark; now a dreary reality stared me in the face. The sparkle was gone. Is there anything so sad as a gla.s.s of champagne when it has gone flat and lifeless?

My cogitations were brief. The Count after waiting for a minute or two to let me grasp the full importance of the sacrifice he was ready to make in order to secure me against personal loss, blandly announced that there were but two mortgages on the chateau, whereas nearly every other place of the kind within his knowledge had thrice as many.

”You wish me to accept a third mortgage on the place?” I inquired, pursing my lips.

”The Chateau is worth at least a million,” he said earnestly. ”But why worry about that, Mr. Smart? My personal note is all that is necessary.

The matter of a mortgage is merely incidental. I believe it is considered business-like by you Americans, so I stand quite ready to abide by your habits. I shall soon be in possession of a million in any event, so you are quite safe in advancing me any amount up to--”

”Just a moment, Count,” I interrupted, leaning forward in my chair.

”May I inquire where and from whom you received the impression that I am a rich man?”

He laughed easily. ”One who indulges a whim, Mr. Smart, is always rich.

Schloss Rothhoefen condemns you to the purgatory of Croesus.”

”Croesus would be a poor man in these days,” said I. ”If he lived in New York he would be wondering where his next meal was to come from.

You have made a very poor guess as to my wealth. I am not a rich man.”

He eyed me coldly. ”Have you suddenly discovered the fact, sir?”

”What do you mean?”

”I suggest a way in which you can be of a.s.sistance to me, and you hesitate. How am I to take it, sir?”

His infernal air of superiority aggravated me. ”You may take it just as you please, Mr. Pless.”

”I beg you to remember that I am Count Tarnowsy. Mr.--”

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