By Wit of Woman, Arthur W. Marchmont [best books to read in your 20s .TXT] 📗

interview, so I sat down and stared stonily at him. He was one of those vulture-faced old men, with a large hook nose, a wide mouth, and a small square chin, which when he spoke suggested irresistibly the moving lower bill of the bird. He had dark, piercing, beady eyes, rather deep set under prominent eyebrows, and a waxen white forehead, rounded like a bird's poll.

"I wish to speak to you about Count Gustav."

"Yes?"

"I am a friend of his and his family, and possess their confidence, and being also a friend of General von Erlanger's, I thought it would be desirable for me to speak with you."

"Yes?"

"As a mutual friend, if I may say so, and an old man of long experience of the world."

"Yes?" I said again, maintaining the same stony stare.

"Count Gustav has told me the facts, and as it is generally the case in these exceedingly private and painful matters a solution satisfactory to both sides can be found by a third disinterested person—where there is a mutual desire to find one, of course—he deemed it best, and I agreed with him, that I should see you and speak plainly and frankly to you."

This time when he paused I bowed merely and said nothing.

"I may take it that you do desire some arrangement? You are silent, but I presume it; because I am convinced so charming a young lady as yourself could not harbour any personal malice against the Count. That would be a monstrous thought. And further, you are so capable, so exceptionally capable and clever, that you cannot have disguised from yourself that to attempt to harm a member of the Ducal family, whatever the motive or supposed facts, would not only end in failure, but also in personal inconvenience, to use no stronger term, to the person making the attempt."

I kept my eyes fixed steadily on him; and my stare and silence began to tell on his temper. I was rather glad to see that.

Getting no reply, he made another long speech about his amiable intentions, my many excellent qualities, his extreme reluctance to see me come to harm, the impossibility of my hurting Count Gustav, and the necessity for an amicable settlement. But he made the threat a little more unmistakable this time—owing possibly to his anger at my stony reserve.

He paused, and we looked at one another in silence.

Then as if he had done with preambles he said: "And now, what is it you want? I invite you to speak frankly."

"'Frankly'?" I repeated, with a nasty little accent on the word. "May I put two questions to you?" He bowed and waved his hands. Like the rest of him they were bird-like and suggested talons. "Do you come to me from Count Gustav or from the Duke himself?"

"I speak for—both," he answered, not without hesitation.

"Then please tell me what is behind your threat of 'personal inconvenience'? What do they intend to do, if I refuse to come to an arrangement? What can they do to me?"

"They are strong enough to frustrate any attack of the kind from you or any one else."

"But what can they do? You are a mutual friend, you know, General;" and I gave him one of my sweetest smiles.

"I have no hesitation in saying you might be in great personal danger, Miss Gilmore."

"I have already reminded you that I am an American citizen."

"You may take it from me that you will be prevented from taking any action of the hostile kind you contemplate."

I smiled again. "I am not in the least frightened, General. I am smiling because you come to me to speak about a mutual arrangement—when you have made up your mind that the only arrangement to be thought of is unconditional surrender on my part. And to force that, you threaten me with unspeakable penalties. We shouldn't call that any sort of arrangement at all, in the States, but merely—pardon the word—bluff."

I was gaining my first point rapidly. He was getting very angry at my opposition and the way I put it.

"I was prepared to find you a very daring young woman; but this thing shall not be allowed to go farther. You reckon on General von Erlanger's help; but he will be powerless here."

I indulged him with a third smile. "You are not quite right there. I have done something else. Knowing the Duke's power and influence might prevent his Excellency from protecting me, I wrote out an account of the matter and have arranged that—if anything unforeseen should happen to me, to-night, for instance—it shall be placed to-morrow morning in the hands of the American Consul. And even against the Ducal family, I will back my Government to keep its end up."

I paused, but he had nothing ready to answer that with; so I continued: "I think you'll agree that that foresight of mine cancels your threat, and that we can start in again on equal terms."

His talons having failed to grip me now gripped one another, and with considerable tension too. His right hand fastened like a vice on his left wrist.

"I did not threaten you, I only warned you. What is it you want?"

"In the first place, fair play—and it is not playing fairly for Duke Ladislas to come to me in the disguise of a mutual friend."

"You know me, then?"

"As well as you know me. Inadvertently, when you entered, you called me by my name—von Dreschler. You know, also, one of the objects I seek—justice for my father's name. That it be cleared from the shame and disgrace foully and treacherously put upon it in the interest of you and your family—the responsibility for a deed of blood of which he was innocent, but which you, or those promoting your interests, instigated, planned, and carried out."

"'Fore God, you speak daringly, madam."

"I speak the truth, my Lord, just as I demand to have justice done. Not demand only, but command it shall be done—for the power to command has been put into my hands by the perfidy and wickedness of your son, Count Gustav."

I looked for an outburst from him in response; but none came. He sat silent, the right talon still gripping the left as though he wished it were my throat.

"I do not know with what motive you came to me," I said after a pause; "unless it was to try and frighten me into silence. But I will deal more frankly with you than you with me. If you have come to offer me less than justice to my father's memory, we are only wasting time; and the interview, painful to both, may as well end right now."

"I offer you that and no less," he answered, and he loosed his wrist to wave his hand as if with a gesture of compliance.

It was my turn to be surprised now; but I was sceptical at so ready a surrender after his threats. "That is glad news, indeed. When will the truth be made known?"

"At once. I will see that it is done. As others have done, you have misjudged me. I see that of course. I have been secretly deemed, I know, to have had some guilty connivance in the death of the young Count Stephen; and in that, have had to bear the blame for the acts of my too zealous adherents. My family profited by their rashness; and so the world held, as it will, that advantage and guilt went hand in hand."

"I seek in that awful matter only justice for my father's memory. Restore his good name, and who else loses or gains, is nothing to me."

"I pledge myself as to that. The facts shall be drawn up and made public; and further, I will interest myself to secure that the title he held, Count Melnik, shall be restored to you, together with the estate which was confiscated. Full justice shall be done."

"Thank God for that!" I exclaimed, intensely moved.

"To-morrow, my son Gustav is to come here to you, and he shall bring with him full confirmation in writing of what I have now promised you. On that I give you my word."

I leant back in my chair overcome. The knowledge of what I had gained mingled with the poignant regret that my dear father had not lived to share the joy of his vindication brought the tears to my eyes. I could not speak, so mastering was the emotion.

"I will leave you now, Miss von Dreschler," said the Duke as he rose. "When we next meet you will be the Countess Melnik—not that I think you will value such a title except for what it means—the full restitution of your dead father's honour."

He held out his hand, and I rose and gave him mine in silence.

When he had gone I sank back in my chair, elation at my success still battling with that vehement but useless regret that my father had not lived to see that night; and the battle was still being waged when his Excellency entered.

I dashed away my tears.

"I have won," I said, smiling. "I am sure I owe it chiefly to you. The Duke has given me a solemn promise that my father's name shall be cleared."

I looked for a sign of congratulation; but instead, my old friend glanced at me slowly and very shrewdly, and moved on to his chair.

"You are an excellent linguist, but probably do not know the dead languages, Christabel. There is an old tag of Virgil's for instance: 'Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes'."

"I know what that means, at any rate," I cried. "'I fear the Greeks even when bearing gifts.'"

He turned and looked at me again very thoughtfully. Then nodding his head he answered with slow emphasis; "It is possible to learn the meaning of it—even in Pesth."

"You think this is a Greek gift?"

"I think—we may still finish our game of chess, Christabel;" and he came over to the board and examined the position of the men.

CHAPTER XXIV WHAT THE DUKE MEANT

"There is always this about chess," said his Excellency, when I had taken my place opposite to him; "you cannot play it unless you detach your thoughts from all other matters."

"I don't wish to detach mine," I returned.

"Then I shall certainly beat you; for I intend to detach mine, at all events for a few moves. Now study this position;" and he insisted on talking chess for some minutes, and then we played. Gradually the fascination which the game always had laid hold of me, and, concentrating my thoughts upon it, I began to play very carefully, until I caught my old friend's eyes studying my face instead of the game.

"I think you are playing earnestly now, so that we may as well stop and talk. While I light a cigar, think back to your conversation, and then tell me your impressions."

He was unusually deliberate in choosing and lighting his cigar, and leaving the chess table threw himself into an easy lounge chair and smoked for a while in silence.

"Well—what are the impressions?"

"You have disturbed them and me," I replied.

"Intentionally."

"Just as you intentionally misled me about your 'old comrade'."

"He made me do that; but I knew you would see through it; and I had no scruple."

"But he was surprised when I told him who he was."

"No man likes to have his incognito fail him. But your impressions."

"I think he will do what he said—and what I wish. You know what he promised?

"Oh yes, that of course."

"He did not come prepared to do it."

"No. You have made another convert, Christabel. He is charmed with you. You are a wonderful little lady."

"I did not exert many charms. I was just as hard as a stone, and then said things that made him look as if he would gladly have taken me by the throat with those talon hands of his."

"It was that daring of yours that won him round. I don't know all you said; but from what he told me, I should think