CHAPTER XXI
HIS EXCELLENCY TO THE RESCUE
I have said somewhere that I did not take General von Erlanger'simportance at his own estimate of it; but what occurred that morningmight well have induced me to reconsider that opinion. Certainly noneof those present in the room shared it. They all, including CountGustav himself, stood in considerable awe of him.
A slight wave of the hand sent Lieutenant Varga and his men out of theroom; and until they had gone and the door closed behind them, notanother word was spoken.
I threw my cloak over the back of a chair, sat down, and began to studyCount Gustav's face. He stood leaning against a cabinet, alternatelyfrowning and smiling as he strove to think what line to take.
"Miss von Dreschler is of course my friend." This use of my namechased the smiles away. "I know her to be anything but a lunatic--sheis saner than a good many of us, indeed--so that I am sure you wouldwish to explain this, Count."
"You know her by that name, then?"
"Oh, yes. I know her history."
"Do you know what has occurred in this house?"
"She will tell me in a moment if I ask her."
"Certainly, I will--if Count Gustav desires it," I chimed in.
"She has preferred a very odious accusation against me, General, andhas shown such a strange prejudice, as the result of certain delusionsshe entertains, that I deem it necessary for the state of her mind tobe inquired into."
"What is the accusation?"
"Nothing less than that I have endeavoured to compass the death of mybrother."
"Yes, that is grave enough and odious enough. To whom has theaccusation been made?"
"To me, so far; but she threatens to make it public."
"Surely you do not take such a thing seriously. What could you have tofear from such a charge?" Cleverly said; as though the whole thingwere just a monstrous absurdity.
"Nothing, of course; but----" he finished with a gesture to imply thatsuch conduct could not be tolerated by an honourable person likehimself.
"Surely you would not wish to shut up a lady in a lunatic asylum forfear she might utter impossible charges against you."
"I believe her to be insane--on that point, of course; howeverreasonable and clever she may be in other respects."
"My dear Count Gustav, can't you see the extraordinary unwisdom of whatyou proposed to do? Why, the first effect would be to make every onewho heard the charge believe there was some ground for it, and that shewas shut away because you were afraid to face the thing. Your highposition, your well-known probity, and your acknowledged and admiredhonour and love of justice render you able to laugh at such a thing.It would fly off from you like a pebble flung at an ironclad and leaveno more injury."
Very astute and extremely diplomatic. I had certainly done hisExcellency much less than justice. He was making it impossible for myadversary to go any further; and at the same time showing his ownadmiration of the Count's qualities and his regard for the ducal family.
Count Gustav found himself very awkwardly placed. "That is no doubttrue, but I cannot take the same lenient view of the matter. Suchthings are apt to do much harm in the present disturbed state of publicfeeling."
"Well, my loyalty to your father, the Duke, and your family are toowell-known to be questioned, I hope; and of course, if the matter ispressed, we must do what you wish--have the thing threshed out to thelast straw, and the truth proved even to my very wilful young friendhere. I have too much faith in her powers of sound judgment to believefor an instant that she would not accept the proofs of truth andappreciate them."
"I wish no more than a full investigation," I agreed; my admiration ofhis diplomacy mounting. "I may have spoken in haste and may beentirely wrong; and I hope I know how to retire from an impossibleposition and to withdraw any mistaken statements."
It was admirable comedy. But Count Gustav did not admire it. He sawhimself drifting nearer the rapids.
"Do you think you could ask for more than that, Count?" asked theGeneral, blandly.
But the Count stiffened his back. "I have chosen my course and, withall deference to your Excellency, I shall persevere in it. This ladyis not to be trusted to be at large."
The General turned to me with an apologetic air. "I am afraid underthese circumstances, Miss von Dreschler, I can do no more for you. Youwill understand that a member of the Duke's family speaks with greatinfluence and power. Let me appeal to you to withdraw these chargesnow and let the matter end at once."
"No," broke in my adversary. "It has gone too far to end here andnow." The General's words had given him confidence.
"Your Excellency sees that a withdrawal would be useless," I exclaimed,with a shrug. "It is not that which Count Gustav desires. It is toshut me up so that I may have no chance of repeating elsewhere what Ihave said to him. He shrinks from any real investigation."
"Oh." His Excellency was quite pained as he uttered the protest."Please, please, be careful what you say. There is no such thought inCount Gustav's mind. Everything you wish to say, every charge youmistakenly bring, shall be disproved to your entire satisfaction. Youare maligning the most honourable man in Pesth, a member of the mostillustrious family. Of course there shall be investigation. Is it notso, Count?"
"I have stated the course I intend to pursue," was the dogged reply.
"Do you wish Varga to deal with the matter?"
"Yes. I have explained it to him."
His Excellency threw up his hands and shook his head. "Dear, dear, Icould almost wish I had not answered your letter so promptly, Miss vonDreschler. It is a very distressing matter."
"Oh, she sent for you?" exclaimed the Count, angrily.
"Yes, indeed. Scarcely the act of a lunatic, of course. It was veryclever indeed, for it forces the thing to my knowledge. You see,Count, there is another very serious obstacle in your path. Miss vonDreschler is an American citizen--and you know what the Americans arewhen you twitch only a feather of the big bird. The eagle has a veryloud cry, monstrously sharp eyes, and talons that dig deep inunearthing things."
I vowed to myself I would never again doubt his Excellency's shrewdnessor his importance. I could have kissed him for the way he played thatbeautiful check-mate.
The Count was entirely nonplussed for the moment. He could only frownand repeat; "I have chosen my course, and even you cannot stop me,General."
"My dear young Count, you are making things exceedingly awkward. Yousee the affair is known to me officially; and that is everything. Youare too young to appreciate all that this means; but when you are myage and have had my experience, you will see such a thing as I see it."
"I shall of course appeal at once to the United States Consul," I said,quick to take the cue thus indicated.
"You hear that. I was sure of it. No, believe me, Count, this is amatter to be settled in a very different way. You must not act in ahurry. I tell you what we must do. We must all have time to thinkthings over; and to afford the necessary opportunity I will take Missvon Dreschler to my house until to-morrow; and if you will come there,say at noon, we shall no doubt have found a way out."
But this would not suit Count Gustav, I knew; and he held on to hisresolve to pursue the course he had chosen.
"My dear Count, I know how your father would act in such a case. Wereally cannot run the risk of making it a cause of internationalcomplication. If you will not accept my suggestion all I can do is tosend word to the American Consul and let him have the custody of thisyoung lady. The people at the Consulate will then of course go fullyinto the affair, everything will be made public, and heaven knows whattrouble will come out of it. But it would simply ruin me at Vienna ifI were to consent to your wish. It is only a matter of a few hours.Miss von Dreschler will no doubt consent to do nothing for that time;and meanwhile, if you wish it, you and I can go to the Duke."
"There is another way," said the Count, suddenly. "We will go at onceto my father and
lay the matter before him. He can decide what shouldbe done, and take any responsibility off your shoulders, General."
It was a shrewd move, but the check was obvious. "I agree to thatreadily, with but one condition--the American Consul must be present toprotect me."
His Excellency gave me a quick glance of appreciation. "Oh, yes, ofcourse. The Count will not object to that."
"But I do object. We want no more in this than there are at present."
"Then as an American citizen I claim my rights and the protection of myflag."
"Will you remain here a few minutes?" asked the General; and he led theCount out of the room. They were absent nearly half an hour, and thenhis Excellency returned alone.
"I have prevailed upon the Count to take my view of what should bedone; and if you will give me your word to say nothing of these mattersuntil twelve o'clock to-morrow, you will come with me to my house andremain there until then."
"Then we shall have another game of chess much sooner than weanticipated, your Excellency," I said lightly.
"You play too much chess, young lady, and far too daring a game. I maygive him your word?"
"Oh, yes. I have done all I wished here and am ready to go."
"You'll make no effort to escape?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes."You are to be a prisoner, you know."
I nodded and laughed, and a few minutes later he handed me into hiscarriage to drive back to the city.
He was more disposed to think than to talk during the drive, andseveral times I caught a furtive smile flitting over his face anddrawing down the corners of his mouth.
"I'm afraid I have a dangerous prisoner. You have already given me oneawkward corner to turn this morning; and I see others ahead."
"I never knew what diplomacy meant until this morning," I replied; "andthe cleverness of it quite fascinated me."
"Diplomacy often consists in helping a friend to do what he doesn'twish to do," he said sententiously.
"I suppose, by the way, I am only a prisoner on parole?"
"If you take my advice you will not stir out of my house until we havehad the meeting to-morrow."
"Why not?"
"I cannot talk easily in a carriage," he answered, with a glance whichI understood to mean that he had strong reasons he preferred not toexplain.
I said no more until we reached his house and he took me into hislibrary.
"I cannot give you more than one minute, and therefore cannot wait tohear your story. I have pressing matters that will keep me all theafternoon."
"I have no clothes, your Excellency," I cried, with a littleaffectation of dismay.
"Which means you wish to go out in order to carry on the scheme withwhich your busy little brains are full. You cannot go out,Christabel--I have said that you will remain here. Understand that,please." He spoke almost sternly; but the twinkle came into his eyesas he turned away and added: "As for your clothes, I had thought ofthat difficulty, and I told that American servant of yours to call herethis afternoon on the chance that you might need him."
I laughed and was running out of the room, saying I would go and findthe girls and tell them I had come to spend the rest of the day withthem, when I stopped and went back to him. "I haven't thanked you," Isaid.
"It is not to me that any thanks are due--but the Stars and Stripes.They gave us the mate."
"But it was you who made the move; and it is you I thank."
"The game is not finished yet, Christabel. We'll wait for that."
"I see the combination that will win it."
He took my hand and pressed it. "You deserve to win; but the stakesare almost tragically high, child."
"In chess there is always a king without a throne."
CHAPTER XXII
COLONEL KATONA SPEAKS
I wrote a short note to Colonel Katona saying that circumstancesprevented my going to his house that day; but that I had somethingimportant to say to him, and wished him to come to me to General vonErlanger's at once.
Next, an equally brief one to Karl:
"DEAR FRIEND,
"I cannot keep my word to see you to-day. I have been compelled tocome here, to General von Erlanger's house, and must remain untilto-morrow. But to-morrow I shall see you. Please me by staying whereyou are until then. Colonel Katona is coming here, and will bring youa message from me saying where we can meet to-morrow. I am sure youwill do this as you have done so much 'for her sake.'
CHRISTABEL VON DRESCHLER."
Then a letter to Gareth followed:
"I am now confident that I shall have great news for you to-morrow. Ihave been working hard for you all the time, and success is in sight.But we cannot gain it unless you will now do your part and help me inall my plans for to-morrow. I wish you to remain in your roomto-morrow morning, and not to leave it under any pretext whatever,until I myself come to you. You will of course be very curious to knowthe reason for this: we women can't help that. And I will explain itall to-morrow. You have trusted me so far. Trust me in this also--forI tell you frankly that if you do not, everything even at the lastmoment may be ruined. Keep a brave heart, for I am very hopefulhappiness is in sight for you.
"Ever your friend, "CHRISTABEL."
Lastly I drew up a concise statement of the whole facts of the case,giving as full details as were necessary to enable any one tounderstand it clearly, as well as my position in regard to it. Thiswas for James Perry to take to the American Consul if any dangerthreatened me. I took this step, not because I doubted my friend theGeneral, but lest he should find his wish to help me thwarted by thoseabove him.
I had my papers ready by the time James Perry arrived. I explainedfirst what he was to do with the paper for the Consulate, and added:"Your father will know where to take the letters for Colonel Katona andCount Karl, James, because he drove them home last night. Send him offwith them the moment you get back. Give this letter to the Countessvon Ostelen; and this list of clothes to your mother. You are to bringthem back here to me."
"Yes, miss," he said, as he pocketed them.
"And now I am going to set you a difficult task. You have done mesplendid service so far--but you are now going to play me a treacherousshabby, cowardly trick."
"I hope not," he said, noticing my smile.
"You will need all your wits; because a great deal hangs upon how youact--all my plans in fact. You took a letter from me this morning toCount Gustav. Did you see him?"
"Yes, for a moment. He took the letter, laughed and seemed ratherpleased, and then gave me the message--that he would go to the house atonce."
"You think he would know you again?"
"Oh, yes, I am sure of that."
"Good. Now, you are going to betray me to him. He is desperatelyanxious to know the whereabouts of the Countess von Ostelen, and youare going to be scoundrel enough to take advantage of my absence fromhome to tell him where to find her. It will be hard for your mother'sson to be a scoundrel, James, I know."
"I hope so, miss, with all my heart."
"But as scoundrels can play at honesty, there's no reason why honestmen shouldn't sometimes get a bit of their own back by playing atvillainy. You are deeply interested in the troubles of the Countessvon Ostelen; you have been shocked by my rather cruel treatment of her;you have heard her ask me again and again to let her leave the house;and your chivalry is roused because I keep her locked in her room.Realize that part of your feelings, and think it over, because that isthe sly hypocrisy on the surface of your conduct."
"I am afraid I am a bigger rascal than I thought," he said.
"I am sure you will be to-morrow when you see him. Of course you haveanother motive--which you understand will be dragged out of you whenthe Count, who will be suspicious, begins to question you. You wantmoney and a place in the household of the Duke, his father. Thedollars will be the main thing. Half the sum down before you open yourlips: the rest when you complete the work. That is, the Count is togive it to you w
hen you let him into the house to fetch the lady away."
"What sum should I name?" he asked with a grin.
"I don't think a thousand dollars would be too much for suchinformation; but this is a poor country, so we'll put it at about halfthat--fifteen hundred gulden. Your honour is worth more than that,James; but, as good Americans, we must gauge the conditions of themarket. Take those letters now, and when you come back I will haveready for you a letter in bad German, which you will copy--telling theCount you are my servant and have something pressing on yourconscience--hypocrites always have bulging consciences, James--that itconcerns a lady who is a prisoner in my house, and that you will payhim a visit to-morrow at half-past eleven. He has a seriousappointment here at twelve; but when you tell him that you can get himinto my house just after that hour, he will prefer to keep theappointment with you instead of coming here."
"I think I can do it all easily. But what am I to do when he comes?"
"I shall be there to welcome him, James. You must contrive so that youdo not reach the house until half-past twelve. You can be a quarter ofan hour late in going to him; the interview will last quite half anhour--you will be agitated over your villainy, you know, and will haveto drive your bargain; and the ride with him to the house will takeanother quarter of an hour or twenty minutes. Put him into the smalldrawing-room which looks on to the garden behind and come to me."
I sent him away then, telling him to think it all over and to ask meany questions necessary when he returned with my clothes.
I drafted a carefully mysterious letter, such as I deemed a scoundrelwould write, making much of my conscience, but hinting unmistakably ata money reward; and when he came back we discussed the whole plan inconsiderable detail.
We were still occupied in this way when Colonel Katona's card wasbrought to me. I found him looking very haggard and worn with theemotions and incidents of the preceding night; but he held my hand andpressed it very warmly, and the hard eyes as he gazed at me were morelike Gareth's than I would have deemed it possible for them to be.
"You have news for me, Miss von Dreschler? It is of my child?" heasked eagerly.
"Yes, it all concerns Gareth, Colonel."
"You are going to take me to her?"
"I hope so--but it will depend upon you."
"Then it is settled--there is nothing I will not do for that;" and hesighed deeply. "Tell me what you wish."
"You find me in a different mood from that of last night. Then I wasthinking mainly of Gareth and a little only for myself. Now I amthinking only of myself."
"You saved me from a terrible mistake last night."
"To which you had been tempted by the man who has wronged your child.I sent Count Karl away with you that you might see how deeply you hadwronged him in your suspicions."
"I saw that--afterwards; and saw, too, why you knew he was innocent.He speaks of little else but you."
"Count Karl knows the road which duty compels him to take, and he willfollow it to the end. He is a changed man."
The Colonel looked at me earnestly for a moment, his expressioninscrutable. Then he nodded.
"Yes, he is a changed man; thanks to your influence--only that."
"The cause is of no consequence; it is only the fact that matters."
"You are very strong--for such a child."
"I have a strong purpose, Colonel Katona. I am going to be true tothat purpose now with you."
"I am afraid I know what you are going to say."
"To ask plainly whether you will do justice to my father and tell methe whole story of that cruel wrong."
"The whole story?" he asked, anxiety in both look and tone.
"The whole story--nothing less will satisfy me."
He paused in evident distress, and pressed his hand tightly on hisforehead. "It cannot be. It is impossible. Count Karl urged me--heof all men--but I told him what I tell you--it is impossible."
"Then you will never see Gareth again." I made my voice as hard andcold as I could.
"I have feared this," he murmured.
"And I, Colonel Katona, have worked for it."
"I cannot, I cannot," he murmured again, love and fear doing desperatebattle in his mind. "You are not so cruel."
"I can be as hard as steel in this cause. Hear what I have done. Iknow, of course, where she is. I know the man who has done her thiswrong. I have to-day so planned matters that to-morrow he shall knowwhere to find her. If you do not speak now to help me, I declare toyou that to-morrow Gareth shall be again in his arms."
A groan escaped his lips at this, and he bowed his white head as if inan agony of shame.
"Have you no mercy?" he whispered, at length.
"I am thinking of my father and his shame and ruin. You helped to killhis honour and blight his life. You were his friend. Had you mercythen, that you would ask it now of his child?"
"They told me he was dead. I swear that. I did not know the truthuntil years afterwards--when he had escaped. It was then too late, toolate. My God, you know not what this is that you ask me to do."
"I ask for the truth. He trusted you. He has left it on record. Youbetrayed that trust--for your employers. You set their favour thenbefore your friend's honour, just as now you set it before even thehonour of your child."
Every one of my biting violent words went right home. He winced underthe pain of them; and when I paused and he glanced up, his face couldnot have been more stricken had I been his judge sentencing him todeath. Nay, I think he would have faced death with far less agitation.
"From you, his child, this is terrible," he murmured. "I have beenvery guilty; but not as you think. I was not false to your father likethat. I will tell you all so far as it touches me. I know now that itwas resolved that the young Count Stephen should die; and a quarrel waspurposefully caused between him and your father. I was used at firstonly as a tool in the work. I had reason to know that the DukeAlexinatz was so incensed against your father, that it would go hardwith him if he remained in Pesth."
"I know that it was at your persuasion that he made ready to fly fromthe city."
"It was true what I told him--Duke Ladislas wished him to leave, asotherwise the Duke himself might have been involved in the quarrel. Hesent me direct to your father. Up to that point I was true to myfriend. I would have given my life for him cheerfully--then."
"And after?"
"Count Stephen did go to your father's rooms in search of him, hisblood heated with wine and the lies told by others; and it was there hewas shot."
"You knew of this?"
"Nothing, until the next day; and then the story was told me that thetwo had met and quarrelled fiercely; that my friend had been killed;that the matter must be hushed up in the interests of Duke Ladislas;that he had in reality instigated it, and that loyalty to him made itimpossible to speak the truth. Your father had been secretly buried, Iwas assured."
"I am waiting, Colonel Katona," I said, presently.
"From that point on I was guilty. My silence then was the first act oftreachery; and others soon followed. I could not bring the dead tolife, I was told, but I could help the living; and in helping themcould save from ruin the cause to which I was pledged. The confessionby your father was found and used--and I stood by and suffered his nameto be dishonoured. For that I can plead no excuse."
"And when you knew that my father had not died but had been imprisonedall those years, and had escaped--what did you do then?"
"I know. I know," he exclaimed, wretchedly. "I did nothing. Theycame to me----"
"Who came to you?"
"Those who had done it all; and with them Count Gustav to whom all hadthen been told. They appealed to my loyalty to the cause, to DukeLadislas, and to my country--and I yielded."
"Count Karl, too?"
"No. He knows nothing of it. Nothing."
"If he had known of all this and you had found the news which youthought had come from me to be true--tha
t the man for whose family youhad sinned in this way was the same who had wronged Gareth, what then?"
There was such a glitter in his eyes as they met mine that I almostfeared he had read the thought and intent behind my words.
"I would have had his life first and"--he checked himself with suddeneffort.
"And what?" I asked.
"I would have killed him," he murmured, doggedly.
"The rest is your secret?" I hazarded. He made no other answer than toglance at me quickly.
"If I tell you to-morrow where to find Gareth, will you make publicwhat you have told me to-day and denounce the men who were concerned inmy father's ruin?"
At the direct question he was profoundly agitated again. "Is there noother way?"
"No. None. I am pleading for my father's honour."
"I will do it," he said, with a bitter sigh.
"On your word of honour, Colonel Katona?"
"Yes. On my word of honour. God help me."
I drew a deep breath of relief. I needed no further assurance. I hadseen enough to know that what I still had to tell him--that Gustav wasthe man he sought--would suffice to change any lingering remnant ofindecision into grim set purpose.
I told him I would send him word on the following morning where he andCount Karl were to come to me at about noon.
"You will give me your hand, Christabel?" he asked, hesitating, as wewere parting.
"Yes. I trust you now to undo the past."
He held my hand a moment and seemed much affected.
"I had meant to speak to you about Count Karl. He----"
"Please!" I broke in.
"If I could help your happiness it would be some recompense for mywrong to your father."
"You cannot do that."
"You care for him?"
"Please," I said again.
"I know. He has told me what stands between you. I am glad now thatyou made me speak--although your words stabbed me to the heart. But Iam glad now--and perhaps I can help you. It should not be all tragedyfor you two. But heaven knows it is tragedy whatever happens."
I was glad to be alone. The interview had tried me. I endeavoured toanalyze my feelings; and I am afraid I realized that while I wasjubilant at the prospect of success, the knowledge that it broughtnearer the parting from Karl made me almost wish for failure.
That was rank treachery to my purpose and my dear father's memory, Iknow. But then, I was only a girl; and after all, even in thestrongest of us, the heart will have its way at times. Mine took itthen for a desolate half-hour, until I was roused by the two chatteringgirls who came romping in to take me away to dress for dinner.
By Wit of Woman Page 21