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Page 88
"It was nothing." He forced a smile to his lips. "I'm as fit as a
fiddle now; only, I'll never forgive myself for letting him go. Will
you tell me one thing? Did he ever offend you in any way?"
"A woman would not call it an offense," a glint of humor in her eyes.
"Real offense, no."
"He proposed to you?"
The suppressed rage in his tone would have amused if it hadn't thrilled
her strangely. "It would have been a proposal if I had not stopped it.
Good night."
He could not see her eyes very well; there was only one candle burning.
Impulsively he snatched at her hand and kissed it. With his life, if
need be; ay, and gladly. And even as she disappeared into the corridor
the thought intruded: Where was the past, the days of wandering, the
active and passive adventures, he had contemplated treasuring up for a
club career in his old age? Why, they had vanished from his mind as
thin ice vanishes in the spring sunshine. To love is to be borne again.
And Laura? She possessed a secret that terrified her one moment and
enraptured her the next. And she marveled that there was no shame in
her heart. Never in all her life before had she done such a thing;
she, who had gone so calmly through her young years, wondering what it
was that had made men turn away from her with agony written on their
faces! She would never be the same again, and the hand she held softly
against her cheek would never be the same hand. Where was the
tranquillity of that morning?
Fitzgerald found himself alone with Ferraud again. There was going to
be no dissembling; he was going to speak frankly.
"You have evidently discovered it. Yes, I love Miss Killigrew, well
enough to die for her."
"_Zut_! She will be as safe as in her own house. Had Breitmann not
gone to-night, had any of us stopped him, I could not say. Unless you
tell her, she will never know that she stood in danger. Don't you
understand? If I marred one move these men intend to make, if I showed
a single card, they would defeat me for the time; for they would make
new plans of which I should not have the least idea. You comprehend?"
Fitzgerald nodded.
"It all lies in the hollow of my hand. Breitmann made one mistake; he
should have pushed me off the boat, into the dark. _He_ knows that I
know. And there he confuses me. But, I repeat, he is not vicious,
only mad."
"Where will it be?"
"It will _not_ be;" and M. Ferraud smiled as he livened up the burnt
wick of his candle.
"Treachery on the part of the drivers? Oh, don't you see that you can
trust me wholly?"
"Well, it will be like this;" and reluctantly the secret agent outlined
his plan. "Now, go to bed and sleep, for you and I shall need some to
draw upon during the next three or four days. Hunting for buried
treasures was never a junketing. The admiral will tell you that. At
dawn!" Then he added whimsically: "I trust we haven't disturbed the
royal family below."
"Hang the royal family!"
"Their own parliament, or Reichstag, will arrange for that!" and the
little man laughed.
Dawn came soon enough, yellow and airless.
"My dear," said Mrs. Coldfield, "I really wish you wouldn't go."
"But Laura and Miss von Mitter insist on going. I can't back out now,"
protested Coldfield. "What are you worried about? Brigands,
gun-shots, and all that?"
"He will be a desperate man."
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