By Wit of Woman

by Arthur W. Marchmont

  CHAPTER X

  A DRAMATIC STROKE

  "Have you any news for me?" was Gareth's eager question, natural enoughunder the circumstances, and her delicate expressive face clouded as Ishook my head.

  "We could scarcely expect any good news yet, dear."

  "I suppose not; but I am so anxious."

  "It will all come right in time, Gareth." But that very tritecommonplace had no more soothing effect on her than it often has onwiser folk.

  "I suppose I must be patient; but I wish I could do something formyself. I hate being patient. Why can't I go out myself and searchfor him? I put my hat on once this morning to start."

  "I told you before the risk you would run."

  "Oh, I know all that, of course," she replied, petulantly. "I've beenwith you nearly two days and you've done nothing. Two whole long days.And it's so dull here. It's worse than at Sillien."

  "Would it have been better had those men taken you?"

  She threw her arms round my neck then and burst into tears. "I knowhow ungrateful I am. I hate myself for it, Christabel. But I did sohope you had brought some news. And I am so disappointed."

  I let her cry, knowing the relief which tears bring to such a nature ashers. She soon dried her eyes, and sat down and looked at me, herhands folded demurely on her lap--the picture of pretty meekness.

  "How pretty you are, Gareth--with your lovely golden hair, your greatblue eyes, and pink and white cheeks."

  "Am I?" she asked artlessly, smiling. "Karl used to say that; and Iused to love to hear him say it. I only cared to be pretty because heliked it. But I like to hear you say it, too. You see I'm not a bitclever, like you; and one must be either clever or pretty, mustn't one?Karl's both handsome and clever. Oh, so handsome, Christabel. You'llsay so when you see him. I wish I had a likeness."

  This gave me an idea. "Couldn't you draw a likeness of him, Gareth,for me? You see it might help me to recognize him."

  Her face broke into a sunny smile. "I can draw a little; I couldn't dohim justice, of course--no one could do that. He's too handsome. ButI could give you an idea of what he's like."

  We found paper and pencil. "Do the best you can and then put my nameon it, and sign it Gareth von Ostelen, and put the date to it, so thatI can have it for a keepsake."

  "Lovely," she cried, merrily; and set to work at once.

  I watched her a few moments, and when she was absorbed in the task, Iwent off saying I had some directions to give about house matters.

  It was part of my plan that John Perry and his son, as soon as thelatter returned, should go to the house "Unter den Linden." I mightneed them for my personal protection.

  I told John Perry now, therefore, that he was to hire a woman servantto come and help his wife in waiting upon Gareth. He was then topurchase a carriage and a pair of good horses, and procure uniforms forhimself and his son. He was to act as coachman and James as footman;and everything must be in readiness for him to carry out instantly anyorders he received from me. I should either bring or send the orderson the next afternoon.

  I explained that in all probability he would have to drive to the house"Unter den Linden," stable the horses there, and dismiss any menservants he might find about the house; and I suggested that he shouldgo first to the house and find an excuse to learn his way about thestables.

  When I returned to Gareth she had finished the drawing and had added aclever little thumb-nail sketch of herself in the corner, where she hadwritten her name and the date. The drawing really merited the praise Ibestowed upon it.

  "I could do much better if I had not to hurry it," she said,self-critically.

  "Do another while I am away, then," I urged, thinking it would fill outthe time for her. "And now there is one other thing. Could you giveme a paper or letter with his signature--I might be able to trace himthrough some of the public rolls."

  There were no such rolls of course; but she did not know this, andthought the idea so clever that she gave me one of the two letters fromhim she had with her; and kissed me and wished me good luck as I droveaway.

  Although there was not much risk of my movements being traced, Ithought it best to dismiss my carriage before I crossed the SuspensionBridge, and to finish the journey to Madame d'Artelle's in another.

  As the minute approached for the trial of wits and strength with CountGustav, my confidence increased. Every fighting instinct in my naturewas roused; and the struggle was one in which I took a keen personalpleasure. His hateful treatment of the girl who had trusted him filledme with indignation and resentment; and the hope of forcing him to dojustice to her was one of the sharpest spurs to my courage. He shoulddo that or face the alternative of having his double treachery exposed.

  I was a little later than I had intended in reaching the house, and Iasked the servant somewhat anxiously if any one had yet been for me.

  "No, miss, no one."

  "I am expecting a Colonel Katona to call, Peter," I said, giving him agold piece; "and I do not wish any one to know of his visit. I shallbe with Madame probably; so when the Colonel arrives, make up a littleparcel and bring it to me, and just say: 'The parcel you asked about,miss.' Put the Colonel in the little room off the music room, and tellhim that I will see him as soon as possible. You understand this?"

  "Yes indeed, miss," he answered with a grin as he slipped the money inhis pocket.

  "Where is Madame d'Artelle?"

  "In the salon."

  "Alone?"

  "No, miss; Count Gustav is with her. He has been here about a quarterof an hour."

  I went straight to the salon. Madame was sitting on a lounge, her facefull of trouble, and Count Gustav was pacing up and down the roomspeaking energetically with many forceful gestures. He stopped andfrowned at the interruption; but his frown changed to a smile as heheld out his hand.

  He opened with what, as a chess player, I may call the lie gambit.

  "I have been endeavouring to cheer up Madame d'Artelle, Miss Gilmore,"he said lightly. "I tell her she takes the postponement--or if youlike, the abandonment--of the marriage with Karl too seriously."

  "Is it abandoned?" I asked.

  "Did she not tell you?"

  "Yes; but I could scarcely believe it, seeing how much you have countedupon the marriage. The abandonment is a tribute to your influence.But why have you given it up?"

  "I given it up? I? What can it be to me?" he laughed. "It is not mymarriage, Miss Gilmore. I like my brother, of course, but I am not inlove with him so much as to want to marry him."

  "All Pesth knows how much you love your brother," said I, drily.

  "I should not come to you for testimony, I think. I am afraid it wouldnot be favourable. I am glad you are not the majority."

  "Probably I do not know you as others do, or perhaps others do not knowyou as I do. But why have you abandoned the project of the marriage?"

  "You insist on putting the responsibility on me," he said with a touchof irritation beneath his laugh.

  "I can understand that the question is awkward."

  "Not in the least. You see, you raised most unexpectedly the pointabout the admirable and excellent gentleman who was Madame's husband;and it must perforce be postponed until the proofs of his death areforthcoming. Thus it is rather your doing than mine;" and he shruggedhis shoulders.

  "You have found them more difficult to manufacture than youanticipated, I presume?"

  "That is a very serious charge, very lightly made, Miss Gilmore." Hisassumption of offence was excellent.

  "I am not speaking lightly, Count Gustav. When we parted last time yousaid that the proofs of the death of Madame's husband should beproduced. Within a few hours I heard that the marriage had beenpostponed; you now say it was because those proofs cannot be produced.There must be a reason for such a sudden change of front; and I havesuggested it. If you prefer, we will leave it that the proofs cannotbe found or fabricated in time to suit you."

 
He heard me out with darkening face, and then crossed to Madamed'Artelle and offered her his hand.

  "I think, Madame, it will be more convenient for me to leave now. Witha lady we cannot resent an insult; we can only protect ourselves fromfurther insult by leaving."

  I laughed with ostentatiously affected hilarity, and sat down.

  Madame d'Artelle gave him her hand nervously, and he turned from herand bowed stiffly to me.

  "I think I should not go, Count, if I were you," I said, smoothly.

  "Your attitude makes it impossible for me to remain, Miss Gilmore."

  "Of course you know best, but I should not go if I were you."

  He was uneasy and hesitated; went toward the door and then paused andturned. "If you wish to say anything to me and can do so withoutinsulting me, I am willing to listen to you--as a friend of Madame's;"and he waved his hand in her direction.

  "I've a great deal to say and I'm going to say it to some one. Ofcourse if you go, I must say it to some one else."

  "And what am I to understand by that?"

  "You haven't decided yet whether to go or stay. Now, I'll be much morecandid with you than you are with me. It's just a question whether youdare go or not. Your start just now is what we Americans call puttingup a bluff. But you can't bluff me. I hold the cards--every one ofthem a winning card, too. If you go, you lose the game straight away,for I shan't be many minutes in the house after you. You're going tolose anyhow, for that matter: but--well, as I tell you, you'd betternot go."

  "I'm not versed in American slang, Miss Gilmore, and it doesn't lenditself to translation into German," he sneered.

  "Then I'll put it plainer. Go, if you dare, Count Gustav;" and Ichallenged him in look as well as words.

  "I am always anxious to oblige a pretty woman, Miss Gilmore," he said,with one of his most gracious glances.

  "That's very sweet of you, Count. But the question is not my looks;it's your reputation and position."

  At this point Madame d'Artelle made a diversion.

  "I am not feeling well, Christabel, and am going to my room to liedown," she said, rising.

  "That's just what I would have suggested, Henrietta," I answered,fastening on her action. "It's just as well. I have to say somethings to Count Gustav that he might not care for even you to hear."

  He made a great show of opening the door for her to pass and used themoment's delay to think.

  Just as she went out the footman came to the door, carrying the parcel.

  "Do you want me, Peter?" she asked.

  "No, Madame, Miss Gilmore. The parcel you asked for, miss." I took itand he went out and closed the door.

  "I have resolved not to stay longer, Miss Gilmore. I would do much forany friend of Madame's, but I cannot with self-respect suffer yourthreats and insults."

  I thought of a little dramatic stroke.

  "One moment, Count, this parcel concerns you." I half tore the wrapperoff and handed it to him.

  He would not take it, waving it away contemptuously.

  "You had better take it. It is from--Sillien, Count," I said, verydeliberately.

  His eyes blazed with sudden anger.

  "I don't understand you," he cried; but he took it and tore off thecovering to find a blank sheet of paper.

  "This is another insult. I would have you beware."

  "Not an insult--a message. To have been properly dramatic this shouldhave been inside it--" and I held up before him the little sketch whichGareth had made for me with such laughing earnestness.

  "The message which that parcel brings is--that Colonel Katona, Gareth'sfather, is here in the house waiting to see me. Now, do you wish togo?"

  The suddenness of the stroke was for the moment irresistible.

  The colour fled from his face as the laughter had died from his lips.White, tense, agitated and utterly unstrung, he stood staring at me asif he would gladly have struck me dead.

  I had every reason to be contented with my victory.