|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 83
"You got away again. Even Jupiter nods, you know, my dear Captain
Okewood, and I frankly admit I overlooked the silver badge which you had
in your possession. I must compliment you also on your adroitness in
leaving us that false trail to Munich. It took me in to the extent that
I dispatched an emissary to hunt you down in that delightful capital,
but, for myself, I have a certain _flair_ in these matters, and I
thought you would sooner or later come to Bellevue. You will admit that
I showed some perspicacity?"
"You're wasting time with all this talk," I said sullenly.
Clubfoot raised a hand deprecatingly.
"I take a pride in my work," he observed half-apologetically. Then he
added:
"You must not forget that your pretty Countess is not an American. She
is a German. She is also a widow. You may not know the relations that
existed between her and her late husband, but they were not, I assure
you, of such warmth that the Rachwitz family would unduly mourn her
loss. Do you suppose we care a fig for all the American ambassadors that
ever left the States? My dear sir, I observe that you are still
lamentably ignorant of the revolution that war brings into international
relations. In war, where the national interest is concerned, the
individual is nothing. If he or she must be removed, puff! you snuff the
offender out. Afterwards you can always pay or apologize, or do what is
required."
I listened in silence; I had no defence to offer in face of this deadly
logic, the logic of the stronger man.
Clubfoot produced a paper from his pocket.
"Read that!" he said, tossing it over to me. "It is the summons for the
Countess Rachwitz to appear before a court-martial. Date blank, you see.
You needn't tear it up ... I've got several spare blank forms ... one
for you, too!"
I felt my courage ebbing and my heart turning to water. I handed him
back his paper in silence. The booming of a dinner gong suddenly swelled
into the stillness of the room. Clubfoot rose and rang the bell.
"Here's my offer, Okewood!" he said. "You shall restore that letter to
me in its integrity, and the Countess Rachwitz shall go free provided
she leaves this country and does not return. That's my last word! Take
the night to sleep on it! I shall come for my answer in the morning."
A sergeant in field-grey with a rifle and fixed bayonet stood in the
doorway.
"I make you responsible for this man, Sergeant," said Clubfoot, "until I
return in an hour or so. Food will be sent up for him and you will
personally assure yourself that no message is conveyed to him by that or
any other means."
* * * * *
I had washed, I had brushed my clothes, I had dined, and I sat in
silence by the table, in the most utter dejection of spirit, I think,
into which it is possible for a man to fall. I was so totally crushed by
the disappointment of the evening that I don't think I pondered much
about my own fate at all. But my thoughts were busy with Monica. My life
was my own, and I knew I had a lien on my brother's if thereby our
mission might be carried through to the end. But had I the right to
sacrifice Monica?
And then the unexpected happened. The door opened, and she came in,
Schmalz behind her. He dismissed the sergeant with a word of caution to
see that the sentries round the house were vigilant, and followed the
man out, leaving Monica and me alone.
The girl stopped the torrent of self-reproach that rose to my lips with
a pretty gesture. She was pale, but she held her head as high as ever.
"Schmalz has given me five minutes alone with you, Des," she said, "to
plead with you for my life, that you may betray your trust. No, don't
speak ... there is no time to waste in words. I have a message for you
from Francis.... Yes, I have seen him here, this very night.... He says
you must contrive at all costs to keep Grundt from going to the shoot at
ten o'clock to-morrow, and to detain him with you from ten to twelve.
That is all I know about it.... But Francis has planned something, and
you and I have got to trust him. Now, listen ... I shall tell Clubfoot I
have pleaded with you and that you show signs of weakening. Say nothing
to-night, temporize with him when he comes for his answer in the
morning, and then send for him at a quarter to ten, when he will be
leaving the house with the others. The rest I leave to you. Good night,
Des, and cheer up!"...
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|