Part 42 (1/2)

”I hope his lack of discrimination will not lead him to believe that I was delivering a love pat,” said I, grimly.

”Now, tell me everything that happened,” she said, seating herself in my big armchair. Her feet failed to touch the floor. She was wearing the little tan pumps.

When I came to that part of the story where I accused Tarnowsy of duplicity in connection with the frescoes, she betrayed intense excitement.

”Of course it was all a bluff on my part,” I explained.

”But you were nearer the truth than you thought,” she said, compressing her lips. After a moment she went on: ”Count Hohendahl sold the originals over three years ago. I was here with Maris at the time of the transaction and when the paintings were removed. Maris acted as an intermediary in the deal. Hohendahl received two hundred thousand dollars for the paintings, but they were worth it. I have reason to believe that Maris had a fourth of the amount for his commission. So, you see, you were right in your surmise.”

”The infernal rascal! Where are the originals, Countess?”

”They are in my father's villa at Newport,” she said. ”I intended speaking of this to you before, but I was afraid your pride would be hurt. Of course, I should have spoken if it came to the point where you really considered having those forgeries restored.”

”Your father bought them?”

”Yes. While we were spending our honeymoon here in Schloss Rothhoefen, Mr. Smart,” she said. Her face was very pale.

I could see that the dark a.s.sociations filled her mind, and abruptly finished my tale without further reference to the paintings.

”He will challenge you,” she said nervously. ”I am so sorry to have placed you in this dreadful position, Mr. Smart. I shall never forgive myself for--”

”You are in no way concerned in what happened to-day,” I interrupted.

”It was a purely personal affair. Moreover, he will not challenge me.”

”He has fought three duels,” she said. ”He is not a physical coward.”

Her dark eyes were full of dread.

I hesitated. ”Would you be vitally interested in the outcome of such an affair?” I asked. My voice was strangely husky.

”Oh, how can you ask?”

”I mean, on Rosemary's account,” I stammered. ”He--he is her father, you see. It would mean--”

”I was not thinking of the danger to him, Mr. Smart,” she said simply.

”But can't you see how dreadful it would be if I were to kill Rosemary's father?” I cried, completely forgetting myself. ”Can't you see?”

A slow flush mounted to her brow. ”That is precisely what I was thinking, Mr. Smart. It would be--unspeakably dreadful.”

I stood over her. My heart was pounding heavily. She must have seen the peril that lay in my eyes, for she suddenly slipped out of the chair and faced me, the flush dying in her cheek, leaving it as pale as ivory.

”You must not say anything more, Mr. Smart,” she said gently.

A bitter smile came to my lips, and I drew back with a sickening sense of realisation. There _was_ nothing more to be said. But I now thoroughly understood one thing: I was in love with her!...

I am something of a philosopher. I submit that my att.i.tude at the time of my defeat at the hands of the jeweller's clerk proves the point conclusively. If I failed at that time to inspire feelings of love in the breast of a giddy stenographer, what right had I to expect anything better from the beautiful Countess Tarnowsy, whose aspirations left nothing to the imagination? While she was p.r.o.ne to chat without visible restraint at this significantly trying moment, I, being a philosopher, remained silent and thoughtful. Quite before I knew it, I was myself again: a steady, self-reliant person who could make the best of a situation, who could take his medicine like a man. Luckily, the medicine was not so bitter as it might have been if I had made a vulgar, impa.s.sioned display of my emotions. Thank heaven, I had _that_ to be thankful for.

She was speaking of the b.u.t.tonless lawyer, Mr. Bangs. ”He is waiting to see you this evening, Mr. Smart, to discuss ways and means of getting my mother and brothers into the castle without discovery by the spies who are undoubtedly watching their every move.”

I drew in another long, deep breath. ”It seems to me that the thing cannot be done. The risk is tremendous. Why not head her off?”