"You may use either Gilmore or von Dreschler as you please. Names are of small account after what has happened here."
"Where is Madame d"Artelle?"
"She has done that which might be expected of her in a crisis like this--run away. She is probably across the frontier now."
"But I have just had a letter from her begging me to come here at once; written evidently in great agitation."
"There are enough hours in a night to allow of many short letters being written. She was intensely agitated when she fled!"
"_You_ seem to be cool enough."
"My nerves are of a different order from hers. Besides, _I_ have nothing to fear in all this."
"How is it that you are here at all?"
"I am not Madame d"Artelle, and therefore not accountable for my actions or movements to you."
"You left Pesth yesterday--when did you return?"
"If you consult a time table you can see at what hours the trains reach the city, and can judge for yourself which I was likely to be in."
"You can answer me or not, as you please," he said angrily; "but you will have to account for your presence here."
"Why?" and I looked at him meaningly. He pa.s.sed the question off with a shrug of the shoulders.
"That is your first mistake, Count Gustav. You must keep your temper better than that, or it will betray you."
He affected to laugh; but there was no laughter in his eyes.
"Well, if Madame was only fooling me with her letter I suppose I may as well go again," he said lightly.
"You know that you have no thought of going. Why are you afraid to put the questions which are so close to your lips?"
I was getting my thrusts well home each time, and was goading him to anger, as well as starting his fears of me.
"Why was that letter written?"
"Because of what has happened here."
"What has happened?"
"Yes, that is one of the questions. I can tell you." I paused and added slowly: "The man you sent here came to do the work you planned."
He bit his lip hard, and his hands gripped the back of the chair behind which he stood. "You delight in mysteries, I know," he sneered.
"Your sneer does not hide the effect of my news, Count Gustav. You know there is no mystery in that for you--and there is none for me.
Put your second question."
"What do you mean? I don"t understand you."
"That is not true. You want to ask me where your brother is."
"I"ll ask that or any other if you wish," he replied, attempting a jaunty, indifferent air. "Where is he?"
"G.o.d have more mercy on you than you had on him. You have already seen the answer to your question in the drawn blinds of the room where you last saw him alive."
Strive as he would he could not but shrink under my words and tone.
His fingers strained on the chair back, his breath laboured, his colour fled, and his eyes--those hardy, laughing, dare-devil eyes--fell before my gaze. He had to pause and moisten his lips before he could reply.
"If you mean that any harm has come to him," he said, speaking at first with difficulty and hesitation, but gathering firmness as he proceeded; "there will be a heavy reckoning for some one. Who is in the house beside you?" He did not dare to look up yet.
"You coward!" I cried, with all the contempt I felt.
This stung him to fury. "If you have had a hand in this and seek to shield yourself by abusing me, it will not help you. I tell you that."
"Seek to shield myself! I should not stoop to seek so paltry a shield as you could be, whether you were white with fear or flushed with selfish purpose. I do not need a shield. I know the truth, Count Gustav. I know all your part in it, from your motive to the final consummation of your treacherous plan. And what I know to-day, all Austria, all the world, shall know to-morrow."
That was enough. He looked up then, his eyes full of hate of me. I saw his purpose take life and shape in his thoughts. If with safety to himself, he could have struck me down as I stood facing him, he would have done it; but he had what he believed a safer plan in his mind. To have me imprisoned and the secret buried with me.
His new purpose gave him clearer directness of thought at once, and he began to work toward it cunningly. "I can understand and let pa.s.s your wild sayings at such a moment, Miss Gilmore. Such a thing as this has, of course, unstrung you..."
"Oh, it is to be a madhouse, is it," I broke in, interpreting for him his secret thought. "I had expected only a prison. You cannot do it, Count Gustav. I am prepared."
But my jeer did not move him. The force of his first surprise was spent, and he was now close set upon the use he intended to make of my presence. He knew the peril which my threat held for him.
"It is singular under the circ.u.mstances that you regard yourself in danger of imprisonment, Miss Gilmore; I hope not significant. If you would like to offer any explanation, it is of course open to you to do so."
"I think it probable that there will be an explanation before you leave, Count Gustav; but what in particular should I explain now?"
"We shall require one of--what you say has happened here. Who is in the house?"
"Myself and the servants."
"The manservant was sent away and his place taken by another. By whose orders?"
"Mine."
"I shall need to see him."
"Like Madame d"Artelle, he has gone."
"He was here last night?"
"Certainly."
He shrugged his shoulders. The answer suited him admirably. "He was in your employ," he said, drily.
"I have nothing to conceal," I replied, putting as much doggedness into my manner as a guilty person might have used at the first glimpse of the net closing round him.