A FOOL AND HIS MONEY

BY

GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. I MAKE NO EFFORT TO DEFEND MYSELF

II. I DEFEND MY PROPERTY

III. I CONVERSE WITH A MYSTERY

IV. I BECOME AN ANCESTOR

V. I MEET THE FOE AND FALL

VI. I DISCUSS MATRIMONY

VII. I RECEIVE VISITORS

VIII. I RESORT TO DIPLOMACY

IX. I AM INVITED OUT TO DINNER

X. I AGREE TO MEET THE ENEMY

XI. I AM INVITED TO LEND MONEY

XII. I AM INFORMED THAT I AM IN LOVE

XIII. I VISIT AND AM VISITED

XIV. I AM FORCED INTO BEING A HERO

XV. I TRAVERSE THE NIGHT

XVI. I INDULGE IN PLAIN LANGUAGE

XVII. I SEE TO THE BOTTOM OF THINGS

XVIII. I SPEED THE PARTING GUEST

XIX. I BURN A FEW BRIDGES

XX. I CHANGE GARDEN SPOTS

XXI. SHE PROPOSES

ILLUSTRATIONS

In the aperture stood my amazing neighbour ... Frontispiece

I found myself staring as if stupefied at the white figure of a womanwho stood in the topmost balcony. 

I sat bolt upright and yelled: "Get out!"

We faced each other across the bowl of roses

Up to that moment I had wondered whether I could do it with my left hand

CHAPTER I

I MAKE NO EFFORT TO DEFEND MYSELF

I am quite sure it was my Uncle Rilas who said that I was a fool. Ifmemory serves me well he relieved himself of that conviction in thepresence of my mother--whose brother he was--at a time when I wasleast competent to acknowledge _his_ wisdom and most arrogant inasserting my own. I was a freshman in college: a fact--or condition, perhaps, --which should serve as an excuse for both of us. I possessedanother uncle, incidentally, and while I am now convinced that he musthave felt as Uncle Rilas did about it, he was one of those who sufferin silence. The nearest he ever got to openly resenting me as a freshmanwas when he admitted, as if it were a crime, that he too had been incollege and knew less when he came out than when he entered. Which wasa mild way of putting it, I am sure, considering the fact that heremained there for twenty-three years as a distinguished member of thefaculty. 

I assume, therefore, that it was Uncle Rilas who orally convicted me, an assumption justified to some extent by putting two and two togetherafter the poor old gentleman was laid away for his long sleep. He hadbeen very emphatic in his belief that a fool and his money are soonparted. Up to the time of his death I had been in no way qualified todispute this ancient theory. In theory, no doubt, I was the kind offool he referred to, but in practice I was quite an untried novice. It is very hard for even a fool to part with something he hasn't got. True, I parted with the little I had at college with noteworthypromptness about the middle of each term, but that could hardly havebeen called a fair test for the adage. Not until Uncle Rilas died andleft me all of his money was I able to demonstrate that only dead menand fools part with it. The distinction lies in the capacity forenjoyment while the sensation lasts. Dead men part with it becausethey have to, fools because they want to. 

In any event, Uncle Rilas did not leave me his money until my freshmandays were far behind me, wherein lies the solace that he may haveoutgrown an opinion while I was going through the same process. Attwenty-three I confessed that _all_ freshmen were insufferable, and immediately afterward took my degree and went out into the worldto convince it that seniors are by no means adolescent. Havingsuccessfully passed the age of reason, I too felt myself admirablyqualified to look with scorn upon all creatures employed in the businessof getting an education. There were times when I wondered how on earthI could have stooped so low as to be a freshman. I still have thedisquieting fear that my uncle did not modify his opinion of me untilI was thoroughly over being a senior. You will note that I do not sayhe changed his opinion. Modify is the word. 

His original estimate of me, as a freshman, of course, --was utteredwhen I, at the age of eighteen, picked out my walk in life, so tospeak. After considering everything, I decided to be a literary man. A novelist or a playwright, I hadn't much of a choice between the two, or perhaps a journalist. Being a journalist, of course, was preliminary;a sort of makeshift. At any rate, I was going to be a writer. My UncleRilas, a hard-headed customer who had read Scott as a boy and the WallStreet news as a man, --without being misled by either, --was scornful. He said that I would outgrow it, there was some consolation in that. He even admitted that when he was seventeen he wanted to be an actor. There you are, said he! I declared there was a great difference betweenbeing an actor and being a writer. Only handsome men can be actors, while I--well, by nature I was doomed to be nothing more engaging thana novelist, who doesn't have to spoil an illusion by showing himselfin public. 

Besides, I argued, novelists make a great deal of money, and playwrightstoo, for that matter. He said in reply that an ordinarily vigorouswasherwoman could make more money than the average novelist, and shealways had a stocking without a hole to keep it in, which was more tothe point. 

Now that I come to think of it, it _was_ Uncle Rilas who oracularlyprejudged me, and not Uncle John, who was by way of being a sort ofliterary chap himself and therefore lamentably unqualified to guideme in any course whatsoever, especially as he had all he could do tokeep his own wolf at bay without encouraging mine, and who, besidesteaching good English, loved it wisely and too well. I think UncleRilas would have held Uncle John up to me as an example, --a scarecrow, you might say, --if it hadn't been for the fact that he loved him inspite of his English. He must have loved me in spite of mine. 

My mother felt in her heart that I ought to be a doctor or a preacher, but she wasn't mean: she was positive I could succeed as a writer ifI set my mind to it. She was also sure that I could be President ofthe United States or perhaps even a Bishop. We were Episcopalian. 

When I was twenty-seven my first short story appeared in a magazineof considerable weight, due to its advertising pages, but my UncleRilas didn't read it until I had convinced him that the honorariumamounted to three hundred dollars. Even then I was obliged to promisehim a glimpse of the check when I got it. Somewhat belated, it camein the course of three or four months with a rather tart letter inwhich I was given to understand that it wasn't quite the thing topester a great publishing house with queries of the kind I had beenso persistent in propounding. But at last Uncle Rilas saw the checkand was properly impressed. He took back what he said about thewasherwoman, but gave me a little further advice concerning thestocking. 

In course of time my first novel appeared. It was a love story. UncleRilas read the first five chapters and then skipped over to the lastpage. Then he began it all over again and sat up nearly all night tofinish it. The next day he called it "trash" but invited me to haveluncheon with him at the Metropolitan Club, and rather noisilyintroduced me to a few old cronies of his, who were not sufficientlyinterested in me to enquire what my name was--a trifling detail he hadoverlooked in presenting me as his nephew--but who _did_ ask me to havea drink. 

A month later, he died. He left me a fortune, which was all the morestaggering in view of the circumstance that had seen me named for myUncle John and not for him. 

It was not long afterward that I made a perfect fool of myself byfalling in love. It turned out very badly. I can't imagine what gotinto me to want to commit bigamy after I had already proclaimed myselfto be irrevocably wedded to my profession. Nevertheless, I deliberatelycoveted the experience, and would have attained to it no doubt had itnot been for the young woman in the case. She would have none of me, but with considerable independence of spirit and, I must say, noteworthyacumen, elected to wed a splendid looking young fellow who clerked ina jeweller's shop in Fifth Avenue. They had been engaged for severalyears, it seems, and my swollen fortune failed to disturb her senseof fidelity. Perhaps you will be interested enough in a girl who couldrefuse to share a fortune of something like three hundred thousanddollars--(not counting me, of course)--to let me tell you briefly whoand what she was. She was my typist. That is to say, she did piece-workfor me as I happened to provide substance for her active fingers towork upon when she wasn't typing law briefs in the regular sort ofgrind. Not only was she an able typist, but she was an exceedinglywholesome, handsome and worthy young woman. I think I came to like herwith genuine resolution when I discovered that she could spell correctlyand had the additional knack of uniting my stray infinitives withstubborn purposefulness, as well as the ability to administer my grammarwith tact and discretion. 

Unfortunately she loved the jeweller's clerk. She tried to convinceme, with a sweetness I shall never forget, that she was infinitelybetter suited to be a jeweller's wife than to be a weight upon theneck of a genius. Moreover, when I foolishly mentioned my snug fortuneas an extra inducement, she put me smartly in my place by remarkingthat fortunes like wine are made in a day while really excellentjeweller's clerks are something like thirty years in the making. Which, I take it, was as much as to say that there is always room forimprovement in a man. I confess I was somewhat disturbed by one of hergentlest remarks. She seemed to be repeating my Uncle Rilas, althoughI am quite sure she had never heard of him. She argued that the fortunemight take wings and fly away, and then what would be to pay! Of course, it was perfectly clear to me, stupid as I must have been, that shepreferred the jeweller's clerk to a fortune. 

I was loth to lose her as a typist. The exact point where I appear tohave made a fool of myself was when I first took it into my head thatI could make something else of her. I not only lost a competent typist, but I lost a great deal of sleep, and had to go abroad for awhile, asmen do when they find out unpleasant things about themselves in justthat way. 

I gave her as a wedding present a very costly and magnificentdining-room set, fondly hoping that the jeweller's clerk wouldexperience a great deal of trouble in living up to it. At first I hadthought of a Marie Antoinette bedroom set, but gave it up when Icontemplated the cost. 

If you will pardon me, I shall not go any further into this lamentablelove affair. I submit, in extenuation, that people do not care to beregaled with the heartaches of past affairs; they are only interestedin those which appear to be in the process of active development orretrogression. Suffice to say, I was terribly cut up over the way myfirst serious affair of the heart turned out, and tried my best tohate myself for letting it worry me. Somehow I was able to attributethe fiasco to an inborn sense of shyness that has always made mefaint-hearted, dilatory and unaggressive. No doubt if I had gone aboutit roughshod and fiery I could have played hob with the excellentjeweller's peace of mind, to say the least, but alas! I succeeded onlyin approaching at a time when there was nothing left for me to do butto start him off in life with a mild handicap in the shape of adining-room set that would not go with anything else he had in theapartment. 

Still, some men, no matter how shy and procrastinating they may be--orreluctant, for that matter--are doomed to have love affairs thrustupon them, as you will perceive if you follow the course of thisnarrative to the bitter end. 

In order that you may know me when you see me struggling through thesepages, as one might struggle through a morass on a dark night, I shalltake the liberty of describing myself in the best light possible underthe circumstances. 

I am a tallish sort of person, moderately homely, and not quitethirty-five. I am strong but not athletic. Whatever physical developmentI possess was acquired through the ancient and honourable game of golfand in swimming. In both of these sports I am quite proficient. Mynose is rather long and inquisitive, and my chin is considered to besingularly firm for one who has no ambition to become a hero. My thatchis abundant and quite black. I understand that my eyes are green whenI affect a green tie, light blue when I put on one of that delicatehue, and curiously yellow when I wear brown about my neck. Not thatI really need them, but I wear nose glasses when reading: to save myeyes, of course. I sometimes wear them in public, with a very fetchingand imposing black band draping across my expanse of shirt front. Ifind this to be most effective when sitting in a box at the theatre. My tailor is a good one. I shave myself clean with an old-fashionedrazor and find it to be quite safe and tractable. My habits areconsidered rather good, and I sang bass in the glee club. So there youare. Not quite what yon would call a lady killer, or even a lady'sman, I fancy you'll say. 

You will be surprised to learn, however, that secretly I am of a ratherromantic, imaginative turn of mind. Since earliest childhood I haveconsorted with princesses and ladies of high degree, --mentally, ofcourse, --and my bosom companions have been knights of valour andlongevity. Nothing could have suited me better than to have been bornin a feudal castle a few centuries ago, from which I should have salliedforth in full armour on the slightest provocation and returned in glorywhen there was no one left in the neighbourhood to provoke me. 

Even now, as I make this astounding statement, I can't help thinkingof that confounded jeweller's clerk. At thirty-five I am stillunattached and, so far as I can tell, unloved. What more could asensible, experienced bachelor expect than that? Unless, of course, he aspired to be a monk or a hermit, in which case he reasonably couldbe sure of himself if not of others. 

Last winter in London my mother went to a good bit of trouble to setmy cap for a lady who seemed in every way qualified to look after anonly son as he should be looked after from a mother's point of view, and I declare to you I had a wretchedly close call of it. My poormother, thinking it was quite settled, sailed for America, leaving meentirely unprotected, whereupon I succeeded in making my escape. Heavenknows I had no desperate longing to visit Palestine at that particulartime, but I journeyed thither without a qualm of regret, and therebyavoided the surrender without love or honour. 

For the past year I have done little or no work. My books are few andfar between, so few in fact that more than once I have felt the stingof dilettantism inflicting my labours with more or less increasingsharpness. It is not for me to say that I despise a fortune, but I amconstrained to remark that I believe poverty would have been a fairerfriend to me. At any rate I now pamper myself to an unreasonable extent. For one thing, I feel that I cannot work, --much less think, --whenopposed by distracting conditions such as women, tea, disputes overluggage, and things of that sort. They subdue all the romantictendencies I am so parsimonious about wasting. My best work is donewhen the madding crowd is far from me. Hence I seek out remote, obscureplaces when I feel the plot boiling, and grind away for dear life withnothing to distract me save an unconquerable habit acquired very earlyin life which urges me to eat three meals a day and to sleep nine hoursout of twenty-four. 

A month ago, in Vienna, I felt the plot breaking out on me, very muchas the measles do, at a most inopportune time for everybody concerned, and my secretary, more wide-awake than you'd imagine by looking athim, urged me to coddle the muse while she was willing and not to puther off till an evil day, as frequently I am in the habit of doing. 

It was especially annoying, coming as it did, just as I was about toset off for a fortnight's motor-boat trip up the Danube with ElsieHazzard and her stupid husband, the doctor. I compromised with myselfby deciding to give them a week of my dreamy company, and then dashoff to England where I could work off the story in a sequestered villageI had had in mind for some time past. 

The fourth day of our delectable excursion brought us to an ancienttown whose name you would recall in an instant if I were fool enoughto mention it, and where we were to put up for the night. On the crestof a stupendous crag overhanging the river, almost opposite the town, which isn't far from Krems, stood the venerable but unvenerated castleof that highhanded old robber baron, the first of the Rothhoefens. Hehas been in his sarcophagus these six centuries, I am advised, but youwouldn't think so to look at the stronghold. At a glance you can almostconvince yourself that he is still there, with battle-axe andbroad-sword, and an inflamed eye at every window in the grim facade. 

We picked up a little of its history while in the town, and the nextmorning crossed over to visit the place. Its antiquity was considerablyenhanced by the presence of a caretaker who would never see eightyagain, and whose wife was even older. Their two sons lived with themin the capacity of loafers and, as things go in these rapid times ofours, appeared to be even older and more sere than their parents. 

It is a winding and tortuous road that leads up to the portals of thishuge old pile, and I couldn't help thinking how stupid I have alwaysbeen in execrating the spirit of progress that conceives the funicularand rack-and-pinion railroads which serve to commercialise grandeurinstead of protecting it. Half way up the hill, we paused to rest, andI quite clearly remember growling that if the confounded thing belongedto me I'd build a funicular or install an elevator without delay. PoorElsie was too fatigued to say what she ought to have said to me forsuggesting and even insisting on the visit. 

The next day, instead of continuing our delightful trip down the river, we three were scurrying to Saalsburg, urged by a sudden and stupendouswhim on my part, and filled with a new interest in life. 

I had made up my mind to buy the castle!

The Hazzards sat up with me nearly the whole of the night, trying totalk me out of the mad design, but all to no purpose. I was determinedto be the sort of fool that Uncle Rilas referred to when he sofrequently quoted the old adage. My only argument in reply to theirentreaties was that I had to have a quiet, inspirational place in whichto work and besides I was quite sure we could beat the impoverishedowner down considerably in the price, whatever it might turn out tobe. While the ancient caretaker admitted that it was for sale, hecouldn't give me the faintest notion what it was expected to bring, except that it ought to bring more from an American than from any oneelse, and that he would be proud and happy to remain in my service, he and his wife and his prodigiously capable sons, either of whom ifput to the test could break all the bones in a bullock without halftrying, Moreover, for such strong men, they ate very little and seldomslept, they were so eager to slave in the interests of the master. Weall agreed that they looked strong enough, but as they were sleepingwith some intensity all the time we were there, and making dreadfulnoises in the courtyard, we could only infer that they were making upfor at least a week of insomnia. 

I had no difficulty whatever in striking a bargain with the abandonedwretch who owned the Schloss. He seemed very eager to submit to mydemand that he knock off a thousand pounds sterling, and we hunted upa notary and all the other officials necessary to the transfer ofproperty. At the end of three days, I was the sole owner and proprietorof a feudal stronghold on the Danube, and the joyous Austrian was alittle farther on his way to the dogs, a journey he had been negotiatingwith great ardour ever since coming into possession of an estate oncevalued at several millions. I am quite sure I have never seen aspendthrift with more energy than this fellow seems to have displayedin going through with his patrimony. He was on his uppers, so to speak, when I came to his rescue, solely because he couldn't find a purchaseror a tenant for the castle, try as he would. Afterwards I heard thathe had offered the place to a syndicate of Jews for one-third the priceI paid, but luckily for me the Hebraic instinct was not so keen asmine. They let a very good bargain get away from them. I have not toldmy most intimate friends what I paid for the castle, but they are allgenerous enough to admit that I could afford it, no matter what itcost me. Their generosity stops there, however. I have never had somany unkind things said to me in all my life as have been said aboutthis purely personal matter. 

Well, to make the story short, the Hazzards and I returned to SchlossRothhoefen in some haste, primarily for the purpose of inspecting itfrom dungeon to battlement. I forgot to mention that, being very tiredafter the climb up the steep, we got no further on our first visitthan the great baronial hall, the dining-room and certain otherimpressive apartments customarily kept open for the inspection ofvisitors. An interesting concession on the part of the late owner (thegentleman hurrying to catch up with the dogs that had got a bit of astart on him), --may here be mentioned. He included all of the contentsof the castle for the price paid, and the deed, or whatever you callit, specifically set forth that I, John Bellamy Smart, was the soleand undisputed owner of everything the castle held. This made thebargain all the more desirable, for I have never seen a more beautifulassortment of antique furniture and tapestry in Fourth Avenue than wasto be found in Schloss Rothhoefen. 

Our second and more critical survey of the lower floors of the castlerevealed rather urgent necessity for extensive repairs and refurbishing, but I was not dismayed. With a blithesome disregard for expenses, Idespatched Rudolph, the elder of the two sons to Linz with instructionsto procure artisans who could be depended upon to undo the ravages oftime to a certain extent and who might even suggest a remedy for leaks. 

My friends, abhorring rheumatism and like complaints, refused to sleepover night in the drafty, almost paneless structure. They came overto see me on the ensuing day and begged me to return to Vienna withthem. But, full of the project in hand, I would not be moved. With thehouse full of carpenters, blacksmiths, masons, locksmiths, tinsmiths, plumbers, plasterers, glaziers, joiners, scrub-women and chimneysweeps, I felt that I couldn't go away and leave it without a controllinginfluence. 

They promised to come and make me a nice short visit, however, afterI'd got the castle primped up a bit: the mould off the walls of thebedrooms and the great fireplaces thoroughly cleared of obstructiveswallows' nests, the beds aired and the larder stocked. Just as theywere leaving, my secretary and my valet put in an appearance, havingbeen summoned from Vienna the day before. I confess I was glad to seethem. The thought of spending a second night in that limitlessbed-chamber, with all manner of night-birds trying to get in at thewindows, was rather disturbing, and I welcomed my retainers with openarms. 

My first night had been spent in a huge old bed, carefully preparedfor occupancy by Herr Schmick's frau; and the hours, which never wereso dark, in trying to fathom the infinite space that reached above meto the vaulted ceiling. I knew there was a ceiling, for I had seen itsbeams during the daylight hours, but to save my soul I couldn't imagineanything so far away as it seemed to be after the candles had beentaken away by the caretaker's wife, who had tucked me away in the bedwith ample propriety and thoroughness combined. 

Twice during that interminable night I thought I heard a baby crying. So it is not unreasonable to suppose that I was _more_ than gladto see Poopendyke clambering up the path with his typewriter in onehand and his green baise bag in the other, followed close behind byBritton and the Gargantuan brothers bearing trunks, bags, boxes andmy golf clubs. 

"Whew!" said Poopendyke, dropping wearily upon my doorstep--which, bythe way, happens to be a rough hewn slab some ten feet square surmountedby a portcullis that has every intention of falling down unexpectedlyone of these days and creating an earthquake. "Whew!" he repeated. 

My secretary is a youngish man with thin, stooping shoulders and ahabit of perpetually rubbing his knees together when he walks. I shudderto think of what would happen to them if he undertook to run. I couldnot resist a glance at them now. 

"It is something of a climb, isn't it?" said I beamingly. 

"In the name of heaven, Mr. Smart, what could have induced you to--"He got no farther than this, and to my certain knowledge this unfinishedreproof was the nearest he ever came to openly convicting me ofasininity. 

"Make yourself at home, old fellow, " said I in some haste. I felt sorryfor him. "We are going to be very cosy here. "

"Cosy?" murmured he, blinking as he looked up, not at me but at thefrowning walls that seemed to penetrate the sky. 

"I haven't explored those upper regions, " I explained nervously, divining his thoughts. "We shall do it together, in a day or two. "

"It looks as though it might fall down if we jostled it carelessly, "he remarked, having recovered his breath. 

"I am expecting masons at any minute, " said I, contemplating theunstable stone crest of the northeast turret with some uneasiness. Myface brightened suddenly. "That particular section of the castle isuninhabitable, I am told. It really doesn't matter if it collapses. Ah, Britton! Here you are, I see. Good morning. "

Britton, a very exacting servant, looked me over critically. 

"Your coat and trousers need pressing, sir, " said he. "And where amI to get the hot water for shaving, sir?"

"Frau Schmick will supply anything you need, Britton, " said I, happyon being able to give the information. 

"It is not I as needs it, sir, " said he, feeling of his smoothly shavenchin. 

"Come in and have a look about the place, " said I, with a magnificentsweep of my arm to counteract the feeling of utter insignificance Iwas experiencing at the moment. I could see that my faithful retinueheld me in secret but polite disdain. 

A day or two later the castle was swarming with workmen; the bangingof hammers, the rasp of saws, the spattering of mortar, the crashingof stone and the fumes of charcoal crucibles extended to the remotestrecesses; the tower of Babel was being reconstructed in the languageof six or eight nations, and everybody was happy. I had no idea therewere so many tinsmiths in the world. Every artisan in the town acrossthe river seems to have felt it his duty to come over and help the menfrom Linz in the enterprise. There were so many of them that they wereconstantly getting in each other's way and quarrelling over mattersof jurisdiction with even more spirit than we might expect to encounteramong the labour unions at home. 

Poopendyke, in great distress of mind, notified me on the fourth dayof rehabilitation that the cost of labour as well as living had goneup appreciably since our installation. In fact it had doubled. He paidall of my bills, so I suppose he knew what he was talking about. 

"You will be surprised to know, Mr. Smart, " he said, consulting hissheets, "that scrub-women are getting more here than they do in NewYork City, and I am convinced that there are more scrub-women. Todaywe had thirty new ones scrubbing the loggia on the gun-room floor, andthey all seem to have apprentices working under them. The carpentersand plasterers were not so numerous to-day. I paid them off last night, you see. It may interest you to hear that their wages for three daysamounted to nearly seven hundred dollars in our money, to say nothingof materials--and breakage. "

"Breakage?" I exclaimed in surprise. 

"Yes, sir, breakage. They break nearly as much as they mend. We'll--we'll go bankrupt, sir, if we're not careful. "

I liked his pronoun. "Never mind, " I said, "we'll soon be rid of them. "

"They've got it in their heads, sir, that it will take at least a yearto finish the--"

"You tell the foremen that if this job isn't finished to oursatisfaction by the end of the month, I'll fire all of them, " said I, wrathfully. 

"That's less than three weeks off, Mr. Smart. They don't seem to bemaking much headway. "

"Well, you _tell_ 'em, just the same. " And that is how I dismissed it. "Tell 'em _we've_ got to go to work ourselves. "

"By the way, old man Schmick and his family haven't been paid fornearly two years. They have put in a claim. The late owner assuredthem they'd get their money from the next--"

"Discharge them at once, " said I. 

"We can't get on without them, " protested he. "They know the ropes, so to speak, and, what's more to the point, they know all the keys. Yesterday I was nearly two hours in getting to the kitchen for aconference with Mrs. Schmick about the market-men. In the first place, I couldn't find the way, and in the second place all the doors arelocked. "

"Please send Herr Schmick to me in the--in the--" I couldn't recallthe name of the administration chamber at the head of the grandstaircase, so I was compelled to say: "I'll see him here. "

"If we lose them we also are lost, " was his sententious declaration. I believed him. 

On the fifth day of our occupancy, Britton reported to me that he haddevised a plan by which we could utilise the tremendous horse-powerrepresented by the muscles of those lazy giants, Rudolph and Max. Hesuggested that we rig up a huge windlass at the top of the incline, with stout steel cables attached to a small car which could be hauledup the cliff by a hitherto wasted human energy, and as readily lowered. It sounded feasible and I instructed him to have the extraordinaryrailway built, but to be sure that the safety device clutches in thecog wheels were sound and trusty. It would prove to be an infinitelymore graceful mode of ascending the peak than riding up on the donkeysI had been persuaded to buy, especially for Poopendyke and me, whoselegs were so long that when we sat in the saddles our knees eithertouched our chins or were spread out so far that we resembled thePrussian coat-of-arms. 

[Illustration: I found myself staring as if stupefied at the whitefigure of a woman who stood in the topmost balcony]

That evening, after the workmen had filed down the steep looking forall the world like an evacuating army, I sought a few moments of peaceand quiet in the small balcony outside my bedroom windows. My room wasin the western wing of the castle, facing the river. The eastern wingmounted even higher than the one in which we were living, and wastopped by the loftiest watch tower of them all. We had not attemptedto do any work over in that section as yet, for the simple reason thatHerr Schmick couldn't find the keys to the doors. 

The sun was disappearing beyond the highlands and a cool, soft breezeswept up through the valley. I leaned back in a comfortable chair thatBritton had selected for me, and puffed at my pipe, not quite surethat my serenity was real or assumed. This was all costing me a prettypenny. Was I, after all, parting with my money in the way prescribedfor fools? Was all this splendid antiquity worth the--

My reflections terminated sharply at that critical instant and I don'tbelieve I ever felt called upon after that to complete the inquiry. 

I found myself staring as if stupefied at the white figure of a womanwho stood in the topmost balcony of the eastern wing, fully revealedby the last glow of the sun and apparently as deep in dreams as I hadbeen the instant before. 

CHAPTER II

I DEFEND MY PROPERTY

For ten minutes I stood there staring up at her, completely bewilderedand not a little shaken. My first thought had been of ghosts, but itwas almost instantly dispelled by a significant action on the part ofthe suspected wraith. She turned to whistle over her shoulder, and tosnap her fingers peremptorily, and then she stooped and picked up arather lusty chow dog which promptly barked at me across the interveningspace, having discovered me almost at once although I was many rodsaway and quite snugly ensconced among the shadows. The lady in whitemuzzled him with her hand and I could almost imagine I heard herreproving whispers. After a few minutes, she apparently forgot the dogand lifted her hand to adjust something in her hair. He again barkedat me, quite ferociously for a chow. This time it was quite plain toher that he was not barking at the now shadowy moon. She peered overthe stone balustrade and an instant later disappeared from view throughthe high, narrow window. 

Vastly exercised, I set out in quest of Herr Schmick, martialingPoopendyke as I went along, realising that I would have to depend onhis German, which was less halting than mine and therefore, more likelyto dovetail with that of the Schmicks, neither of whom spoke Germanbecause they loved it but because they had to, --being Austrians. Wefound the four Schmicks in the vast kitchen, watching Britton whilehe pressed my trousers on an oak table so large that the castle musthave been built around it. 

Herr Schmick was weighted down with the keys of the castle, which neverleft his possession day or night. 

"Herr Schmick, " said I, "will you be so good as to inform me who thedickens that woman is over in the east wing of the castle?"

"Woman, mein herr?" He almost dropped his keys. His big sons saidsomething to each other that I couldn't quite catch, but it soundedvery much like "der duyvil. "

"A woman in a white dress, --with a dog. "

"A dog?" he cried. "But, mein herr, dogs are not permitted to be inthe castle. "

"Who is she? How did she get there?"

"Heaven defend us, sir! It must have been the ghost of--"

"Ghost, your granny!" I cried, relapsing into English. "Please don'tbeat about the bush, Mr. Schmick. She's over there in the unused wing, which I haven't been allowed to penetrate in spite of the fact thatit belongs to me. You say you can't find the keys to that side of thecastle. Will you explain how it is that it is open to strange womenand--and dogs?"

"You must be mistaken, mein herr, " he whined abjectly. "She cannot bethere. She--Ah, I have it! It may have been my wife. Gretel! Have youbeen in the east--"

"Nonsense!" I cried sharply. "This won't do, Mr. Schmick. Give me thatbunch of keys. We'll investigate. I can't have strange womengallivanting about the place as if they owned it. This is no trystingplace for Juliets, Herr Schmick. We'll get to the bottom of this atonce. Here, you Rudolph, fetch a couple of lanterns. Max, get a sledgeor two from the forge. There _is_ a forge. I saw it yesterday out thereback of the stables. So don't try to tell me there isn't one. If wecan't unlock the doors, we'll smash 'em in. They're mine, and I'll knock'em to smithereens if I feel like it. "

The four Schmicks wrung their hands and shook their heads and, then, repairing to the scullery, growled and grumbled for fully ten minutesbefore deciding to obey my commands. In the meantime, I related myexperience to Poopendyke and Britton. 

"That reminds me, sir, " said Britton, "that I found a rag-doll in thecourtyard yesterday, on that side of the building, sir--I should saycastle, sir. "

"I am quite sure I heard a baby crying the second night we were here, Mr. Smart, " said my secretary nervously. 

"And there was smoke coming from one of the back chimney pots thismorning, " added Britton. 

I was thoughtful for a moment. "What became of the rag-doll, Britton?"I enquired shrewdly. 

"I turned it over to old Schmick, sir, " said he. He grinned. "I thoughtas maybe it belonged to one of his boys. "

On the aged caretaker's reappearance, I bluntly inquired what hadbecome of the doll-baby. He was terribly confused. 

"I know nothing, I know nothing, " he mumbled, and I could see that hewas miserably upset. His sons towered and glowered and his wife wrappedand unwrapped her hands in her apron, all the time supplicating heavento be good to the true and the faithful. 

From what I could gather, they all seemed to be more disturbed overthe fact that my hallucination included a dog than by the claim thatI had seen a woman. 

"But, confound you, Schmick, " I cried in some heat, "it barked at me. "

"Gott in himmel!" they all cried, and, to my surprise, the old womanburst into tears. 

"It is bad to dream of a dog, " she wailed. "It means evil to all ofus. Evil to--"

"Come!" said I, grabbing the keys from the old man's unresisting hand. "And, Schmick, if that dog bites me, I'll hold you personallyresponsible. Do you understand?"

Two abreast we filed through the long, vaulted halls, Rudolph carryinga gigantic lantern and Max a sledge. We traversed extensive corridors, mounted tortuous stairs and came at length to the sturdy oak door thatseparated the east wing from the west: a huge, formidable thingstrengthened by many cross-pieces and studded with rusty bolt-heads. Padlocks as large as horse-shoes, corroded by rust and renderedabsolutely impracticable by age, confronted us. 

"I have not the keys, " said old Conrad Schmick sourly. "This door hasnot been opened in my time. It is no use. "

"It is no use, " repeated his grizzly sons, leaning against the mouldywalls with weary tolerance. 

"Then how did the woman and her dog get into that part of the castle?"I demanded. "Tell me that!"

They shook their heads, almost compassionately, as much as to say, "Itis always best to humour a mad man. "

"And the baby, " added Poopendyke, turning up his coat collar to protecthis thin neck from the draft that smote us from the halls. 

"Smash those padlocks, Max, " I commanded resolutely. 

Max looked stupidly at his father and the old man looked at his wife, and then all four of them looked at me, almost imploringly. 

"Why destroy a perfectly good padlock, mein herr?" began Max, twirlingthe sledge in his hand as if it were a bamboo cane. 

"Hi! Look out there!" gasped Britton, in some alarm. "Don't let thatthing slip!"

"Doesn't this castle belong to me?" I demanded, considerably impressedby the ease with which he swung the sledge. A very dangerous person, I began to perceive. 

"It does, mein herr, " shouted all of them gladly, and touched theirforelocks. 

"Everything is yours, " added old Conrad, with a comprehensive sweepof his hand that might have put the whole universe in my name. 

"Smash that padlock, Max, " I said after a second's hesitation. 

"I'll bet he can't do it, " said Britton, ingeniously. 

Very reluctantly Max bared his great arms, spit upon his hands, and, with a pitiful look at his parents, prepared to deal the first blowupon the ancient padlock. The old couple turned their heads away, andput their fingers to their ears, cringing like things about to bewhipped. 

"Now, one--two--three!" cried I, affecting an enthusiasm I didn't feel. 

The sledge fell upon the padlock and rebounded with almost equal force. The sound of the crash must have disturbed every bird and bat in thetowers of the grim old pile. But the padlock merely shed a few scabsof rust and rattled back into its customary repose. 

"See!" cried Max, triumphantly. "It cannot be broken. " Rudolph, hisbroad face beaming, held the lantern close to the padlock and showedme that it hadn't been dented by the blow. 

"It is a very fine lock, " cried old Conrad, with a note of pride inhis voice. 

I began to feel some pride in the thing myself. "It is, indeed, " Isaid. "Try once more, Max. "

It seemed to me that he struck with a great deal more confidence thanbefore, and again they all uttered ejaculations of pleasure. I caughtDame Schmick in the act of thanking God with her fingers. 

"See here, " I exclaimed, facing them angrily, "what does all this mean?You are deceiving me, all of you. Now, let's have the truth--everyword of it--or out you go to-morrow, the whole lot of you. I insiston knowing who that woman is, why she is here in my hou--my castle, and--everything, do you understand?"

Apparently they didn't understand, for they looked at me with all thestupidity they could command. 

"You try, Mr. Poopendyke, " I said, giving it up in despair. He soughtto improve on my German, but I think he made it worse. They positivelyrefused to be intelligent. 

"Give me the hammer, " I said at last in desperation. Max surrenderedthe clumsy, old-fashioned instrument with a grin and I motioned forthem all to stand back. Three successive blows with all the might Ihad in my body failed to shatter the lock, whereupon my choler roseto heights hitherto unknown, I being a very mild-mannered, placidperson and averse to anything savouring of the tempestuous. I delivereda savage and resounding thwack upon the broad oak panel of the door, regardless of the destructiveness that might attend the effort. If anyone had told me that I couldn't splinter an oak board with asledge-hammer at a single blow I should have laughed in his face. Butas it turned out in this case I not only failed to split the panel butbroke off the sledge handle near the head, putting it wholly out ofcommission for the time being as well as stinging my hands so severelythat I doubled up with pain and shouted words that Dame Schmick couldnot put into her prayers. 

The Schmicks fairly glowed with joy! Afterwards Max informed me thatthe door was nearly six inches thick and often had withstood theassaults of huge battering rams, back in the dim past when occasioninduced the primal baron to seek safety in the east wing, which, afterall, appears to have been the real, simon pure fortress. The west wingwas merely a setting for festal amenities and was by no means feudalin its aspect or appeal. Here, as I came to know, the old baronsreceived their friends and feasted them and made merry with the flagonand the horn of plenty; here the humble tithe payer came to settle hisdues with gold and silver instead of with blood; here the little baronsand baronesses romped and rioted with childish glee; and here thebarons grew fat and gross and soggy with laziness and prosperity, andhere they died in stupid quiescence. On the other side of that grim, staunch old door they simply went to the other extreme in everyparticular. There they killed their captives, butchered their enemies, and sometimes died with the daggers of traitors in their shiveringbacks. 

As we trudged back to the lower halls, defeated but none the lessimpressed by our failure to devastate our stronghold, I was struck bythe awful barrenness of the surroundings. There suddenly came over methe shocking realisation: the "contents" of the castle, as set forthrather vaguely in the bill of sale, were not what I had been led toconsider them. It had not occurred to me at the time of the transactionto insist upon an inventory, and I had been too busy since the beginningof my tenancy to take more than a passing account of my belongings. In excusing myself for this rather careless oversight, I can only saythat during daylight hours the castle was so completely stuffed withworkmen and their queer utensils that I couldn't do much in the wayof elimination, and by night it was so horribly black and lonesomeabout the place and the halls were so littered with tools and mops andtimber that it was extremely hazardous to go prowling about, so Ipreferred to remain in my own quarters, which were quite comfortableand cosy in spite of the distance between points of convenience. 

Still I was vaguely certain that many articles I had seen about thehalls on my first and second visits were no longer in evidence. Twoor three antique rugs, for instance, were missing from the main hall, and there was a lamentable suggestion of emptiness at the lower endwhere we had stacked a quantity of rare old furniture in order to makeroom for the workmen. 

"Herr Schmick, " said I, abruptly halting my party in the centre of thehall, "what has become of the rugs that were here last week, and whereis that pile of furniture we had back yonder?"

Rudolph allowed the lantern to swing behind his huge legs, intentionallyI believe, and I was compelled to relieve him of it in order that wemight extract ourselves from his shadow. I have never seen such acolossal shadow as the one he cast. 

Old Conrad was not slow in answering. 

"The gentlemen called day before yesterday, mein herr, and took muchaway. They will return to-morrow for the remainder. "

"Gentlemen?" I gasped. "Remainder?"

"The gentlemen to whom the Herr Count sold the rugs and chairs andchests and--"

"What!" I roared. Even Poopendyke jumped at this sudden exhibition ofwrath. "Do you mean to tell me that these things have been sold andcarried away without my knowledge or consent? I'll have the law--"

Herr Poopendyke intervened. "They had bills of sale and orders forremoval of property dated several weeks prior to your purchase, Mr. Smart. We had to let the articles go. You surely remember my speakingto you about it. "

"I don't remember anything, " I snapped, which was the truth. "Why--why, I bought everything that the castle contained. This is robbery! Whatthe dickens do you mean by--"

Old Conrad held up his hands as if expecting to pacify me. I sputteredout the rest of the sentence, which really amounted to nothing. 

"The Count has been selling off the lovely old pieces for the past sixmonths, sir. Ach, what a sin! They have come here day after day, thesefurniture buyers, to take away the most priceless of our treasures, to sell them to the poor rich at twenty prices. I could weep over thesacrifices. I have wept, haven't I, Gretel? Eh, Rudolph? Buckets oftears have I shed, mein herr. Oceans of them. Time after time have Iimplored him to deny these rascally curio hunters, theseblood-sucking--"

"But listen to me, " I broke in. "Do you mean to say that articles havebeen taken away from the castle since I came into possession?"

"Many of them, sir. Always with proper credentials, believe me. Ach, what a spendthrift he is! And his poor wife! Ach, Gott, how she mustsuffer. Nearly all of the grand paintings, the tapestries that camefrom France and Italy hundreds of years ago, the wonderful old bedsteadsand tables that were here when the castle was new--all gone! And formere songs, mein herr, --the cheapest of songs! I--I--"

"Please don't weep now, Herr Schmick, " I made haste to exclaim, seeinglachrymose symptoms in his blear old eyes. Then I became firm oncemore. This knavery must cease, or I'd know the reason why. "The nextman who comes here to cart away so much as a single piece is to bekicked out. Do you understand? These things belong to me. Kick himinto the river. Or, better still, notify me and I'll do it. Why, ifthis goes on we'll soon be deprived of anything to sit on or sleep inor eat from! Lock the doors, Conrad, and don't admit any one withoutfirst consulting me. By Jove, I'd like to wring that rascal's neck. A Count! Umph!"

"Ach, he is of the noblest family in all the land, " sighed old Gretel. "His grandfather was a fine man. " I contrived to subdue my rage anddisappointment and somewhat loudly returned to the topic from whichwe were drifting. 

"As for those beastly padlocks, I shall have them filed off to-morrow. I give you warning, Conrad, if the keys are not forthcoming beforenoon to-morrow, I'll file 'em off, so help me. "

"They are yours to destroy, mein herr, God knows, " said he dismally. "It is a pity to destroy fine old padlocks--"

"Well, you wait and see, " said I, grimly. 

His face beamed once more. "Ach, I forgot to say that there are padlockson the _other_ side of the door, just as on this side. It will be of nouse to destroy these. The door still could not be forced. Mein Gott! Howthankful I am to have remembered it in time. "

"Confound you, Schmick, I believe you actually want to keep me out ofthat part of the castle, " I exploded. 

The four of them protested manfully, even Gretel. 

"I have a plan, sir, " said Britton. "Why not place a tall ladder inthe courtyard and crawl in through one of the windows?"

"Splendid! That's what we'll do!" I cried enthusiastically. "And nowlet's go to bed! We will breakfast at eight, Mrs. Schmick. The earlybird catches the worm, you know. "

"Will you see the American ladies and gentlemen who are coming to-morrowto pick out the--"

"Yes, I'll see them, " said I, compressing my lips. "Don't let meover-sleep, Britton. "

"I shan't, sir, " said he. 

Sleep evaded me for hours. What with the possible proximity of anundesirable feminine neighbour, mysterious and elusive though she mayprove to be, and the additional dread of dogs and babies, to say nothingof the amazing delinquencies to be laid to the late owner of the place, and the prospect of a visit from coarse and unfeeling bargain-hunterson the morrow, it is really not surprising that I tossed about in mybaronial bed, counting sheep backwards and forwards over hedges andfences until the vociferous cocks in the stable yard began to send uptheir clarion howdy-dos to the sun. Strangely enough, with the firstpeep of day through the decrepit window shutters I fell into a soundsleep. Britton got nothing but grunts from me until half-past nine. At that hour he came into my room and delivered news that aroused memore effectually than all the alarm clocks or alarm cocks in the worldcould have done. 

"Get up, sir, if you please, " he repeated the third time. "The partyof Americans is below, sir, rummaging about the place. They have orderedthe workmen to stop work, sir, complaining of the beastly noise theymake, and the dust and all that, sir. They have already selected halfa dozen pieces and they have brought enough porters and carriers overin the boats to take the stuff away in--"

"Where is Poopendyke?" I cried, leaping out of bed. "I don't want tobe shaved, Britton, and don't bother about the tub. " He had filled mytwentieth century portable tub, recently acquired, and was nervouslycreating a lather in my shaving mug, "You look very rough, sir. "

"So much the better. "

"Mr. Poopendyke is in despair, sir. He has tried to explain that nothingis for sale, but the gentlemen say they are onto his game. They goright on yanking things about and putting their own prices on them andreserving them. They are perfectly delighted, sir, to have found somany old things they really want for their new houses. "

"I'll--I'll put a stop to all this, " I grated, seeing red for aninstant. 

"And the ladies, sir! There are three of them, all from New York City, and they keep on saying they are completely ravished, sir, --with joy, I take it. Your great sideboard in the dining-room is to go to Mrs. Riley-Werkheimer, and the hall-seat that the first Baron used to throwhis armour on when he came in from--"

"Great snakes!" I roared. "They haven't moved it, have they? It willfall to pieces!"

"No, sir. They are piling sconces and candelabra and andirons on it, regardless of what Mr. Poopendyke says. You'd better hurry, sir. Hereis your collar and necktie--"

"I don't want 'em. Where the dickens are my trousers?"

His face fell. "Being pressed, sir, God forgive me!"

"Get out another pair, confound you, Britton. What are we coming to?"

He began rummaging in the huge clothespress, all the while regalingme with news from the regions below. 

"Mr. Poopendyke has gone up to his room, sir, with his typewriter. Theyoung lady insisted on having it. She squealed with joy at seeing anantique typewriter and he--he had to run away with it, 'pon my soulhe did, sir. "

I couldn't help laughing. 

"And your golf clubs, Mr. Smart. The young gentleman of the party isperfectly carried away with them. He says they're the real thing, thegenuine sixteenth century article. They _are_ a bit rusted, you'llremember. I left him out in the courtyard trying your brassie andmid-iron, sir, endeavouring to loft potatoes over the south wall. Isucceeded in hiding the balls, sir. Just as I started upstairs I heardone of the new window panes in the banquet hall smash, sir, so I takeit he must have sliced his drive a bit. "

"Who let these people in?" I demanded in smothered tones from thedepths of a sweater I was getting into in order to gain time by omittinga collar. 

"They came in with the plumbers, sir, at half-past eight. Old manSchmick tried to keep them out, but they said they didn't understandGerman and walked right by, leaving their donkeys in the roadwayoutside. "

"Couldn't Rudolph and Max stop them?" I cried, as my head emerged. 

"They were still in bed, sir. I think they're at breakfast now. "

"Good lord!" I groaned, looking at my watch. "Nine-thirty! What sortof a rest cure am I conducting here?"

We hurried downstairs so fast that I lost one of my bedroom slippers. It went clattering on ahead of us, making a shameful racket on thebare stones, but Britton caught it up in time to save it from theclutches of the curio-vandals. My workmen were lolling about the place, smoking vile pipes and talking in guttural whispers. All operationsappeared to have ceased in my establishment at the command of the farfrom idle rich. Two portly gentlemen in fedoras were standing in themiddle of the great hall, discussing the merits of a dingy old spinetthat had been carried out of the music room by two lusty porters fromthe hotel. From somewhere in the direction of the room where theporcelains and earthenware were stored came the shrill, excited voicesof women. The aged Schmicks were sitting side by side on a windowledge, with the rigid reticence of wax figures. 

As I came up, I heard one of the strangers say to the other:

"Well, if you don't want it, I'll take it. My wife says it can be madeinto a writing desk with a little--"

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen, " said I confronting them. "Will you begood enough to explain this intrusion?"

They stared at me as if I were a servant asking for higher wages. Thespeaker, a fat man with a bristly moustache and a red necktie, drewhimself up haughtily. 

"Who the devil are you?" he demanded, fixing me with a glare. 

I knew at once that he was the kind of an American I have come to hatewith a zest that knows no moderation; the kind that makes one ashamedof the national melting pot. I glared back at him. 

"I happen to be the owner of this place, and you'll oblige me byclearing out. "

"What's that? Here, here, none of that sort of talk, my friend. We'rehere to look over your stuff, and we mean business, but you won't getanywhere by talking like--"

"There is nothing for sale here, " I said shortly. "And you've got alot of nerve to come bolting into a private house--"

"Say, " said the second man, advancing with a most insulting scowl, "we'll understand each other right off the reel, my friend. All you'vegot to do is to answer us when we ask for prices. Now, bear that inmind, and don't try any of your high-and-mighty tactics on us. "

"Just remember that you're a junk-dealer and we'll get alongsplendidly, " said the other, in a tone meant to crush me. "What do youask for this thing?" tapping the dusty spinet with his walking-stick. 

It suddenly occurred to me that the situation was humorous. 

"You will have to produce your references, gentlemen, before I candiscuss anything with you, " I said, after swallowing very hard. (Itmust have been my pride. )

They stared. "Good Lord!" gasped the bristly one, blinking his eyes. "Don't you know who this gentleman is? You--you appear to be anAmerican. You _must_ know Mr. Riley-Werkheimer of New York. "

"I regret to say that I have never heard of Mr. Riley-Werkheimer. Idid not know that Mrs. Riley-Werkheimer's husband was living. And mayI ask who _you_ are?"

"Oh, I am also a nobody, " said he, with a wink at his purple-jowledcompanion. "I am only poor old Rocksworth, the president of the--"

"Oh, don't say anything more, Mr. Rocksworth, " I cried. "I have heardof _you_. This fine old spinet? Well, it has been reduced in price. Tenthousand dollars, Mr. Rocksworth. "

"Ten thousand nothing! I'll take it at seventy-five dollars. And nowlet's talk about this here hall-seat. My wife thinks it's a fake. Whatis its history, and what sort of guarantee can you--"

"A fake!" I cried in dismay. "My dear Mr. Rocksworth, that is the veryhall-seat that Pontius Pilate sat in when waiting for an audience withthe first of the great Teutonic barons. The treaty between the Romansand the Teutons was signed on that table over there, --the one you haveso judiciously selected, I perceive. Of course, you know that _this_ wasthe Saxon seat of government. Charlemagne lived here with all hiscourt. "

They tried not to look impressed, but rather overdid it. 

"That's the sort of a story you fellows always put up, you skinflintsfrom Boston. I'll bet my head you _are_ from Boston, " said Mr. Rocksworth shrewdly. 

"I couldn't afford to have you lose your head, Mr. Rocksworth, so Ishan't take you on, " said I merrily. 

"Don't get fresh now, " said he stiffly. 

Mr. Riley-Werkheimer walked past me to take a closer look at the seat, almost treading on my toes rather than to give an inch to me. 

"How can you prove that it's the genuine article?" he demanded curtly. 

"You have my word for it, sir, " I said quietly. 

"Pish tush!" said he. 

Mr. Rocksworth turned in the direction of the banquet hall. 

"Carrie!" he shouted. "Come here a minute, will you?"

"Don't shout like that, Orson, " came back from the porcelain closet. "You almost made me drop this thing. "

"Well, drop it, and come on. This is important. "

I wiped the moisture from my brow and respectfully put my clenchedfists into my pockets. 

A minute later, three females appeared on the scene, all of them dustingtheir hands and curling their noses in disgust. 

"I never saw such a dirty place, " said the foremost, a large lady whocouldn't, by any circumstance of fate, have been anybody's wife butRocksworth's. "It's filthy! What do you want?"

"I've bought this thing here for seventy-five. You said I couldn't getit for a nickle under a thousand. And say, this man tells me the hallseat here belonged to Pontius Pilate in--"

"Pardon me, " I interrupted, "I merely said that he sat in it. I am nottrying to deceive you, sir. "

"And the treaty was signed on this table, " said Mr. Riley-Werkheimer. He addressed himself to a plump young lady with a distorted bust anda twenty-two inch waist. "Maude, what do you know about theRoman-Teutonic treaty? We'll catch you now, my friend, " he went on, turning to me. "My daughter is up in ancient history. She's anauthority. "

Miss Maude appeared to be racking her brain. I undertook to assist her. 

"I mean the second treaty, after the fall of Nuremburg, " I explained. 

"Oh, " she said, instantly relieved. "Was it _really_ signed here, righthere in this hall? Oh, Father! We _must_ have that table. "

"You are sure there was a treaty, Maude?" demanded her parentaccusingly. 

"Certainly, " she cried. "The Teutons ceded Alsace-Lorraine to--"

"Pardon me once more, " I cried, and this time I plead guilty to ablush, "you are thinking of the other treaty--the one at Metz, MissRiley-Werkheimer. This, as you will recall, ante-dates that one by--oh, several years. "

"Thank you, " she said, quite condescendingly. "I was confused for amoment. Of course, Father, I can't say that it was signed here or onthis table as the young man says. I only know that there was a treaty. I do wish you'd come and see the fire-screen I've found--"

"Let's get this out of our system first, " said her father. "If you canshow me statistics and the proper proof that this is the genuine table, young man, I'll--"

"Pray rest easy, sir, " I said. "We can take it up later on. The factsare--"

"And this Pontius Pilate seat, " interrupted Rocksworth, biting off theend of a fresh cigar. "What about it? Got a match?"

"Get the gentleman a match, Britton, " I said, thereby giving my valetan opportunity to do his exploding in the pantry. "I can only affirm, sir, that it is common history that Pontius Pilate spent a portion ofhis exile here in the sixth century. It is reasonable to assume thathe sat in this seat, being an old man unused to difficult stairways. He--"

"Buy it, Orson, " said his wife, with authority. "We'll take a chanceon it. If it isn't the right thing, we can sell it to the second-handdealers. What's the price?"

"A thousand dollars to you, madam, " said I. 

They were at once suspicious. While they were busily engaged in lookingthe seat over as the porters shifted it about at all angles, I steppedover and ordered my workmen to resume their operations. I was beginningto get sour and angry again, having missed my coffee. From the culinaryregions there ascended a most horrific odour of fried onions. If thereis one thing I really resent it is a fried onion. I do not know whyI should have felt the way I did about it on this occasion, but I ammean enough now to confess that I hailed the triumphal entry of thatpernicious odour with a meanness of spirit that leaves nothing to beexplained. 

"Good gracious!" gasped the aristocratic Mrs. Riley-Werkheimer, holdingher nose. "Do you smell _that_"?

"Onions! My Gawd!" sniffed Maude. "How I hate 'em!"

Mr. Rocksworth forgot his dignity. "Hate 'em?" he cried, his eyesrolling. "I just love 'em!"

"Orson!" said his wife, transfixing him with a glare. "_What_ willpeople think of you?"

"I like 'em too, " admitted Mr. Riley-Werkheimer, perceiving at oncewhom she meant by "people. " He puffed out his chest. 

At that instant the carpenters, plumbers and stone masons resumed theirinfernal racket, while scrubwomen, polishers and painters began tomove intimately among us. 

"Here!" roared Mr. Rocksworth. "Stop this beastly noise! What the deucedo you mean, sir, permitting these scoundrels to raise the dead likethis? Confound 'em, I stopped them once. Here! You! Let up on that, will you?"

I moved forward apologetically. "I am afraid it is not onions yousmell, ladies and gentlemen. " I had taken my cue with surprisingquickness. "They _are_ raising the dead. The place is fairly alivewith dead rats and--"

"Good Lord!" gasped Riley-Werkheimer. "We'll get the bubonic plaguehere. "

"Oh, I know _onions_, " said Rocksworth calmly. "Can't fool me on onions. They _are_ onions, ain't they, Carrie?"

"They _are_!" said she. "What a pity to have this wonderful old castleactually devastated by workmen! It is an outrage--a crime. I shouldthink the owner would turn over in his grave. "

"Unhappily, I am the owner, madam, " said I, slyly working my foot backinto an elusive slipper. 

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, " she said, eyeing me coldly witha hitherto unexposed lorgnon. 

"I am, " said I. "You quite took me by surprise. I should have mademyself more presentable if I had known--"

"Well, let's move on upstairs, " said Rocksworth. Addressing the portershe said: "You fellows get this lot of stuff together and I'll take anoption on it. I'll be over to-morrow to close the deal, Mr. --Mr. --Now, where is the old Florentine mirror the Count was telling us about?"

"The Count?" said I, frowning. 

"Yes, the _real_ owner. You can't stuff me with your talk about beingthe proprietor here, my friend. You see, we happen to _know_ the Count. "

They all condescended to laugh at me. I don't know what I should havesaid or done if Britton had not returned with a box of matches at thatinstant--sulphur matches which added subtly to the growing illusion. 

Almost simultaneously there appeared in the lower hall a lanky youthof eighteen. He was a loud-voiced, imperious sort of chap with at leastthree rolls to his trousers and a plum-coloured cap. 

"Say, these clubs are the real stuff, all right, all right. They'reas brittle as glass. See what I did to 'em. We can hae 'em spliced andrewound and I'll hang 'em on my wall. All I want is the heads anyhow. "

He held up to view a headless mid-iron and brassie, and triumphantlywaved a splendid cleek. My favourite clubs! I could play better froma hanging lie with that beautiful brassie than with any club I everowned and as for the iron, I was deadly with it. 

He lit a cigarette and threw the match into a pile of shavings. OldConrad returned to life at that instant and stamped out the incipientblaze. 

"I shouldn't consider them very good clubs, Harold, if they break offlike that, " said his mother. 

"What do you know about clubs?" he snapped, and I at once knew whatclass he was in at the preparatory school. 

If I was ever like one of these, said I to myself, God rest the sagesoul of my Uncle Rilas!

The situation was no longer humorous. I could put up with anything butthe mishandling of my devoted golf clubs. 

Striding up to him, I snatched the remnants from his hands. 

"You infernal cub!" I roared. "Haven't you any more sense than to smasha golf club like that? For two cents I'd break this putter over yourhead. "

"Father!" he yelled indignantly. "Who is this mucker?"

Mr. Rocksworth bounced toward me, his cane raised. I whirled upon him. 

"How dare you!" he shouted. The ladies squealed. 

If he expected me to cringe, he was mightily mistaken. My blood wasup. I advanced. 

"Paste him, Dad!" roared Harold. 

But Mr. Rocksworth suddenly altered his course and put the historictreaty table between him and me. He didn't like the appearance of myrather brawny fist. 

"You big stiff!" shouted Harold. Afterwards it occurred to me thatthis inelegant appellation may have been meant for his father, but atthe time I took it to be aimed at me. 

Before Harold quite knew what was happening to him, he was prancingdown the long hall with my bony fingers grasping his collar. Comingto the door opening into the outer vestibule, I drew back my foot fora final aid to locomotion. Acutely recalling the fact that slippersare not designed for kicking purposes, I raised my foot, removed theslipper and laid it upon a taut section of his trousers with all ofthe melancholy force that I usually exert in slicing my drive off thetee. I shall never forget the exquisite spasm of pleasure his plaintive"Ouch!" gave me. 

Then Harold passed swiftly out of my life. 

Mr. Rocksworth, reinforced by four reluctant mercenaries in the shapeof porters, was advancing upon me. Somehow I had a vague, but unerringinstinct that some one had fainted, but I didn't stop to inquire. Without much ado, I wrested the cane from him and sent it scuttlingafter Harold. 

"Now, get out!" I roared. 

"You shall pay for this!" he sputtered, quite black in the face. "Grabhim, you infernal cowards!"

But the four porters slunk away, and Mr. Rocksworth faced me alone. Rudolph and Max, thoroughly fed and _most_ prodigious, were bearingdown upon us, accounting for the flight of the mercenaries. 

"Get out!" I repeated. "I am the owner of this place, Mr. Rocksworth, and I am mad through and through. Skip!"

"I'll have the law--"

"Law be hanged!"

"If it costs me a million, I'll get--"

"It _will_ cost you a million if you don't get!" I advised him, seeingthat he paused for want of breath. 

I left him standing there, but had the presence of mind to wave myhuge henchmen away. Mr. Riley-Werkheimer approached, but verypacifically. He was paler than he will ever be again in his life, Ifear. 

"This is most distressing, most distressing, Mr. -- Mr. -- ahem! I'venever been so outraged in my life. I--but, wait!" He had caught thesnap in my atavistic eye. "I am not seeking trouble. We will go, sir. I--I--I think my wife has quite recovered. Are--are you all right, mydear?"

I stood aside and let them file past me. Mrs. Riley-Werkheimer movedvery nimbly for one who had just been revived by smelling-salts. Asher husband went by, he half halted in front of me. A curious glitterleaped into his fishy eyes. 

"I'd give a thousand dollars to be free to do what you did to thatinsufferable puppy, Mr. --Mr. --ahem. A cool thousand, damn him!"

I had my coffee upstairs, far removed from the onions. A rackingheadache set in. Never again will I go without my coffee so long. Italways gives me a headache. 

CHAPTER III

I CONVERSE WITH A MYSTERY

Late in the afternoon, I opened my door, hoping that the banging ofhammers and the buzz of industry would have ceased, but alas! the noisewas even more deafening than before. I was still in a state of nervesover the events of the morning. There had been a most distressing lackof poise on my part, and I couldn't help feeling after it was all overthat my sense of humour had received a shock from which it was notlikely to recover in a long time. There was but little consolation inthe reflection that my irritating visitors deserved something in theshape of a rebuff; I could not separate myself from the convictionthat my integrity as a gentleman had suffered in a mistaken conflictwith humour. My headache, I think, was due in a large measure to thesickening fear that I had made a fool of myself, notwithstanding myefforts to make fools of them. My day was spoilt. My plans were upsetand awry. 

Espying Britton in the gloomy corridor, I shouted to him, and he cameat once. 

"Britton, " said I, as he closed the door, "do you think they will carryout their threat to have the law on me? Mr. Rocksworth was veryangry--and put out. He is a power, as you know. "

"I think you are quite safe, sir, " said he. "I've been waiting outsidesince two o'clock to tell you something, sir, but hated to disturbyou. I--"

"Thank you, Britton, my head was aching dreadfully. "

"Yes, sir. Quite so. Shortly before two, sir, one of the porters fromthe hotel came over to recover a gold purse Mrs. Riley-Werkheimer haddropped in the excitement, and he informed Mr. Poopendyke that thewhole party was leaving at four for Dresden. I asked particular aboutthe young man, sir, and he said they had the doctor in to treat hisstomach, sir, immediately after they got back to the hotel. "

"His stomach? But I distinctly struck him on the verso. "

"I know, sir; but it seems that he swallowed his cigarette. "

To my shame, I joined Britton in a roar of laughter. Afterwards Irecalled, with something of a shock, that it was the first time I hadever heard my valet laugh aloud. He appeared to be in some distressover it himself, for he tried to turn it off into a violent fit ofcoughing. He is such a faithful, exemplary servant that I made hasteto pound him on the back, fearing the worst. I could not get on at allwithout Britton. He promptly recovered. 

"I beg pardon, sir, " said he. "Will you have your shave and tub now, sir?"

Later on, somewhat refreshed and relieved, I made my way to the littlebalcony, first having issued numerous orders and directions to thestill stupefied Schmicks, chief among which was an inflexible commandto keep the gates locked against all comers. The sun was shiningbrightly over the western hills, and the sky was clear and blue. Thehour was five I found on consulting my watch. Naturally my first impulsewas to glance up at the still loftier balcony in the east wing. It wasempty. There was nothing in the grim, formidable prospect to warrantthe impression that any one dwelt behind those dismantled windows, andI experienced the vague feeling that perhaps it had been a dream afterall. 

Far below at the foot of the shaggy cliff ran the historic Donau, serene and muddy, all rhythmic testimonials to the contrary. Withsomething of a shudder I computed the distance from my eerie perch tothe rocks at the bottom of the cliff. Five hundred feet, at least; animpregnable wall of nature surmounted by a now rank and obsoleteobstruction built by the hand of man: a fortress that defied the legionsof old but to-day would afford no more than brief and even desultorytarget practice for a smart battery. To scale the cliff, however, wouldbe an impossibility for the most resourceful general in the world. Allabout me were turrets and minarets, defeated by the ancient andimplacable foe--Time. Shattered crests of towers hung above me, greyand forbidding, yet without menace save in their senile prerogativeto collapse without warning. Tiny windows marked the face of my stillsturdy walls, like so many pits left by the pox, and from these in thegood old feudal days a hundred marksmen had thrust their thunderousblunderbusses to clear the river of vain-glorious foes. From thescalloped bastions cross-bowmen of even darker ages had shot theirrandom bolts; while in the niches of lower walls futile pikemen waitedfor the impossible to happen: the scaling of the cliff!

Friend and foe alike came to the back door of Schloss Rothhoefen, andthere found welcome or stubborn obstacles that laughed at time andlocksmiths: monstrous gates that still were strong enough to defy amighty force. There was my great stone-paved courtyard, flanked on allsides by disintegrating buildings once occupied by serfs and fightingmen; the stables in which chargers and beasts of burden had slept sideby side until called by the night's work or the day's work, as war orpeace prescribed, ranged close by the gates that opened upon the steep, winding roadway that now dismayed all modern steeds save the conqueringass. Here too were the remains of a once noble garden, and here werethe granaries and the storehouses. 

Far below me were the dungeons, with dead men's bones on their drippingfloors; and somewhere in the heart of the peak were secret, unknownpassages, long since closed by tumbling rocks and earth, as darklymysterious as the streets in the buried cities of Egypt. 

Across the river and below me stood the walled-in town that paid tributeto the good and bad Rothhoefens in those olden days: a red-tiled, gloomy city that stood as a monument to long-dead ambitions. A peaceful, quiet town that had survived its parlous centuries of lust and greed, and would go on living to the end of time. 

So here I sat me down, almost at the top of my fancy, to wonder if itwere not folly as well!

Above me soared huge white-bellied birds, cousins germain to my dreams, but alas! infinitely more sensible in that they roamed for a moresustaining nourishment than the so-called food for thought. 

I looked backward to the tender years when my valiant young heart keptpace with a fertile brain in its swiftest flights, and pinched myselfto make sure that this was not all imagination. Was I really livingin a feudal castle with romance shadowing me at every step? Was thisI, the dreamer of twenty years ago? Or was I the last of the Rothhoefensand not John Bellamy Smart, of Madison Avenue, New York?

The sun shone full upon me as I sat there in my little balcony, butI liked the dry, warm glare of it. To be perfectly frank, the castlewas a bit damp. I had had a pain in the back of my neck for two wholedays. The sooner I got at my novel and finished it up the better, Ireflected. Then I could go off to the baths somewhere. But would Iever settle down to work? Would the plumbers ever get off the place?(They were the ones I seemed to suspect the most. )

Suddenly, as I sat there ruminating, I became acutely aware of somethingwhite on the ledge of the topmost window in the eastern tower. Evenas I fixed my gaze upon it, something else transpired. A cloud of soft, wavy, luxurious brown hair eclipsed the narrow white strip and hungwith spreading splendour over the casement ledge, plainly, indubitablyto dry in the sun!

My neighbour had washed her hair!

And it was really a most wonderful head of hair. I can't remember everhaving seen anything like it, except in the advertisements. 

For a long time I sat there trying to pierce the blackness of the roombeyond the window with my straining eyes, deeply sensitive to acuriosity that had as its basic force the very natural anxiety to knowwhat disposition she had made of the rest of her person in order toobtain this rather startling effect. 

Of course, I concluded, she was lying on a couch of some description, with her head in the window. That was quite clear, even to a dreamer. And perhaps she was reading a novel while the sun shone. My fancy wentto the remotest ends of probability: she might even be reading one ofmine!

What a glorious, appealing, sensuous thing a crown of hair--but justthen Mr. Poopendyke came to my window. 

"May I interrupt you for a moment, Mr. Smart?" he inquired, as hesquinted at me through his ugly bone-rimmed glasses. 

"Come here, Poopendyke, " I commanded in low, excited tones. Hehesitated. "You won't fall off, " I said sharply. 

Although the window is at least nine feet high, Poopendyke stooped ashe came through. He always does it, no matter how tall the door. Itis a life-long habit with him. Have I mentioned that my worthy secretaryis six feet four, and as thin as a reed? I remember speaking of hisknees. He is also a bachelor. 

"It is a dreadful distance down there, " he murmured, flattening himselfagainst the wall and closing his eyes. 

A pair of slim white hands at that instant indolently readjusted thethick mass of hair and quite as casually disappeared. I failed to hearMr. Poopendyke's remark. 

"I think, sir, " he proceeded, "it would be a very good idea to getsome of our correspondence off our hands. A great deal of it hasaccumulated in the past few weeks. I wish to say that I am quite readyto attend to it whenever--"

"Time enough for letters, " said I, still staring. 

"We ought to clean them all up before we begin on the romance, sir. That's my suggestion. We shan't feel like stopping for a lot of sillyletters--By the way, sir, when do you expect to start on the romance?"He usually spoke of them as romances. They were not novels toPoopendyke. 

I came to my feet, the light of adventure in my eye. 

"This very instant, Poopendyke, " I exclaimed. 

His face brightened. He loves work. 

"Splendid! I will have your writing tablets ready in--"

"First of all, we _must_ have a ladder. Have you seen to that?"

"A ladder?" he faltered, putting one foot back through the window ina most suggestive way. 

"Oh, " said I, remembering, "I haven't told you, have I? Look! Up therein that window. Do you see _that_?"

"What is it, sir? A rug?"

"Rug! Great Scott, man, don't you know a woman's hair when you see it?"

"I've never--er--never seen it--you might say--just like that. Is it_hair_?"

"It is. You _do_ see it, don't you?"

"How did it get there?"

"Good! Now I know I'm not dreaming. Come! There's no time to be lost. We may be able to get up there before she hears us!"

I was through the window and half way across the room before hiswell-meant protest checked me. 

"For heaven's sake, Mr. Smart, don't be too hasty. We can't rush inupon a woman unexpectedly like this. Who knows? She may be entirely--"He caught himself up sharply, blinked, and then rounded out his sentencein safety with the word "deshabille. "

I was not to be turned aside by drivel of that sort; so, with a scornfullaugh, I hurried on and was soon in the courtyard, surrounded by atleast a score of persons who madly inquired where the fire was, andwanted to help me to put it out. At last we managed to get them backat their work, and I instructed old Conrad to have the tallest ladderbrought to me at once. 

"There is no such thing about the castle, " he announced blandly, puffingaway at his enormous pipe. His wife shook her head in perfect serenity. Somewhat dashed, I looked about me in quest of proof that they werelying to me. There was no sign of anything that even resembled a ladder. 

"Where are your sons?" I demanded. 

The old couple held up their hands in great distress. 

"Herr Britton has them working their souls out, turning a windlassoutside the gates--ach, that terrible invention of his!" groaned oldConrad. "My poor sons are faint with fatigue, mein herr. You shouldsee them perspire, --and hear them pant for breath. "

"It is like the blowing of the forge bellows, " cried his wife. "Mypoor little boys!"

"Fetch them at once Conrad, " said I, cudgelling my brain for a meansto surmount a present difficulty, and but very slightly interested inBritton's noble contraption. 

The brothers soon appeared and, as if to give the lie to their fondparents, puffed complacently at their pipes and yawned as if butrecently aroused from a nap. Their sleeves were rolled up and Imarvelled at the size of their arms. 

"Is Britton dead?" I cried, suddenly cold with the fear that they hadmutinied against this brusque English overlord. 

They smiled. "He is waiting to be pulled up again, sir, " said Max. "Weleft him at the bottom when you sent for us. It is for us to obey. "

Of course, everything had to wait while my obedient vassals went forthand reeled the discomforted Britton to the top of the steep. Hesputtered considerably until he saw me laughing at him. Instantly hewas a valet once more, no longer a crabbed genius. 

I had thought of a plan, only to discard it on measuring with my eyethe distance from the ground to the lowest window in the east wing, second floor back. Even by standing on the shoulders of Rudolph, whowas six feet five, I would still find myself at least ten feet shortof the window ledge. Happily a new idea struck me almost at once. 

In a jiffy, half a dozen carpenters were at work constructing asubstantial ladder out of scantlings, while I stood over them in serenecommand of the situation. 

The Schmicks segregated themselves and looked on, regarding the windowwith sly, furtive glances in which there was a distinct note ofuneasiness. 

At last the ladder was complete. Resolutely I mounted to the top andpeered through the sashless window. It was quite black and repellingbeyond. Instructing Britton and the two brothers to follow me in turn, I clambered over the wide stone sill and lowered myself gingerly tothe floor. 

I will not take up the time or the space to relate my experiences onthis first fruitless visit to the east wing of my abiding place. Sufficeto say, we got as far as the top of the stairs in the vast middlecorridor after stumbling through a series of dim, damp rooms, and thenfound our way effectually blocked by a stout door which was not onlylocked and bolted, but bore a most startling admonition to would-betrespassers. 

Pinned to one of the panels there was a dainty bit of white note-paper, with these satiric words written across its surface in a bold, femininehand:

"_Please keep out. This is private property. _"

Most property owners no doubt would have been incensed by this calmdefiance on the part of a squatter, either male or female, but not I. The very impudence of the usurper appealed to me. What could be moredelicious than her serene courage in dispossessing me, with the strokeof a pen, of at least two-thirds of my domicile, and what more excitingthan the thought of waging war against her in the effort to regainpossession of it? Really it was quite glorious! Here was a happy, enchanting bit of feudalism that stirred my romantic soul to its verydepths. I was being defied by a woman--an amazon! Even my graspingimagination could not have asked for more substantial returns thanthis. To put her to rout! To storm the castle! To make her captive andchuck her into my dungeon! Splendid!

We returned to the courtyard and held a counsel of war. I put all ofthe Schmicks on the grill, but they stubbornly disclaimed all interestin or knowledge of the extraordinary occupant of the east wing. 

"We can smoke her out, sir, " said Britton. 

I could scarcely believe my ears. 

"Britton, " said I severely, "you are a brute. I am surprised. Youforget there is an innocent babe--maybe a collection of them--overthere. And a dog. We shan't do anything heathenish, Britton. Pleasebear that in mind. There is but one way: we must storm the place. Iwill not be defied to my very nose. "

I felt it to see if it was not a little out of joint. "It is a goodnose. "

"It is, sir, " said Britton, and Poopendyke, in a perfect ecstasy ofloyalty, shouted: "Long live your nose, sir!"

My German vassals waved their hats, perceiving that a demonstrationwas required without in the least knowing what it was about. 

"To-night we'll plan our campaign, " said I, and then returned in somehaste to my balcony. The mists of the waning day were rising from thevalley below. The smell of rain was in the air. I looked in vain forthe lady's tresses. They were gone. The sun was also gone. His workfor the day was done. I wondered whether she was putting up her hairwith her own fair hands or was there a lady's maid in her menage. 

Poopendyke and I dined in solemn grandeur in the great banquet hall, attended by the clumsy Max. 

"Mr. Poopendyke, " said I, after Max had passed me the fish for thesecond time on my right side--and both times across my shoulder, --"wemust engage a butler and a footman to-morrow. Likewise a chef. Thisis too much. "

"Might I suggest that we also engage a chambermaid? The beds are verypoorly--"

I held up my hand, smiling confidently. 

"We may capture a very competent chambermaid before the beds are madeup again, " I said, with meaning. 

"She doesn't write like a chambermaid, " he reminded me. Whereupon wefell to studying the very aristocratic chirography employed by myneighbour in barring me from my own possessions. 

After the very worst meal that Frau Schmick had ever cooked, and thelast one that Max under any circumstance would be permitted to serve, I took myself off once more to the enchanted balcony. I was full ofthe fever of romance. A perfect avalanche of situations had beentumbling through my brain for hours, and, being a provident sort ofchap in my own way, I decided to jot them down on a pad of paper beforethey quite escaped me or were submerged by others. 

The night was very black and tragic, swift storm clouds having racedup to cover the moon and stars. With a radiant lanthorn in the windowbehind me, I sat down with my pad and my pipe and my pencil. The stormwas not far away. I saw that it would soon be booming about mystronghold, and realised that my fancy would have to work faster thanit had ever worked before if half that I had in mind was to beaccomplished. Why I should have courted a broken evening on the exposedbalcony, instead of beginning my labours in my study, remains anunrevealed mystery unless we charge it to the account of a much-abusedeccentricity attributed to genius and which usually turns out to bearrant stupidity. 

I have no patience with the so-called eccentricity of genius. It ismerely an excuse for unkempt hair, dirty finger-nails, unpolishedboots, open placquets, bad manners and a tendency to forget pecuniaryobligations, to say nothing of such trifles as besottednesss, vulgarityand the superior knack of knowing how to avoid making suitable provisionfor one's wife and children. All the shabby short-comings in thecharacter of an author, artist or actor are blithely charged to genius, and we are content to let it go at that for fear that other people maythink we don't know any better. As for myself, I may be foolish andinconsequential, but heaven will bear witness that I am not mean enoughto call myself a genius. 

So we will call it stupidity that put me where I might be rained uponat any moment, or permanently interrupted by a bolt of lightning. (There were low mutterings of thunder behind the hills, and faintflashes as if a monstrous giant had paused to light his pipe on theevil, wind-swept peaks of the Caucasus mountains. )

I was scribbling away in serene contempt for the physical world, whenthere came to my ears a sound that gave me a greater shock than anystreak of lightning could have produced and yet left sufficient lifein me to appreciate the sensation of being electrified. 

A woman's voice, speaking to me out of the darkness and from some pointquite near at hand! Indeed, I could have sworn it was almost at myelbow; she might have been peering over my shoulder to read my thoughts. 

"I beg your pardon, but would you mind doing me a slight favour?"

Those were the words, uttered in a clear, sweet, perfectly confidentvoice, as of one who never asked for favours, but exacted them. 

I looked about me, blinking, utterly bewildered. No one was to be seen. She laughed. Without really meaning to do so, I also laughed, --nervously, of course. 

"Can't you see me?" she asked. I looked intently at the spot from whichthe sound seemed to come: a perfectly solid stone block less than threefeet from my right shoulder. It must have been very amusing. She laughedagain. I flushed resentfully. 

"Where are you?" I cried out rather tartly. 

"I can see you quite plainly, and you are very ugly when you scowl, sir. Are you scowling at me?"

"I don't know, " I replied truthfully, still searching for her. "Doesit seem so to you?"

"Yes. "

"Then I must be looking in the right direction, " I cried impolitely. "You must be--Ah!"

My straining eyes had located a small, oblong blotch in the curve ofthe tower not more than twenty feet from where I stood, and on a directline with my balcony. True, I could not at first see a face, but asmy eyes grew a little more accustomed to the darkness, I fancied Icould distinguish a shadow that might pass for one. 

"I didn't know that little window was there, " I cried, puzzled. 

"It isn't, " she said. "It is a secret loop-hole, and it isn't hereexcept in times of great duress. See! I can close it. " The oblongblotch abruptly disappeared, only to reappear an instant later. I wasbeginning to understand. Of course it was in the beleaguered east wing!"I hope I didn't startle you a moment ago. "

I resolved to be very stiff and formal about it. "May I enquire, madam, what you are doing in my hou--my castle?"

"You may. "

"Well, " said I, seeing the point, "what are you doing here?"

"I am living here, " she answered distinctly. 

"So I perceive, " said I, rather too distinctly. 

"And I have come down to ask a simple, tiny little favour of you, Mr. Smart, " she resumed. 

"You know my name?" I cried, surprised. 

"I am reading your last book--Are you going?"

"Just a moment, please, " I called out, struck by a splendid idea. Reaching inside the window I grasped the lanthorn and brought its raysto bear upon the--perfectly blank wall! I stared open-mouthed andunbelieving. "Good heaven! Have I been dreaming all this?" I criedaloud. 

My gaze fell upon two tiny holes in the wall, exposed to view by thebright light of my lamp. They appeared to be precisely in the centreof the spot so recently marked by the elusive oblong. Even as I staredat the holes, a slim object that I at once recognised as a fingerprotruded from one of them and wiggled at me in a merry but exceedinglyirritating manner. 

Sensibly I restored the lanthorn to its place inside the window andwaited for the mysterious voice to resume. 

"Are you so homely as all that?" I demanded when the shadowy facelooked out once more. Very clever of me, I thought. 

"I am considered rather good-looking, " she replied, serenely. "Pleasedon't do that again. It was very rude of you, Mr. Smart. " "Oh, I'veseen something of you before this, " I said. "You have long, beautifulbrown hair--and a dog. "

She was silent. 

"I am sure you will pardon me if I very politely ask who you are?" Iwent on. 

"That question takes me back to the favour. Will you be so very, verykind as to cease bothering me, Mr. Smart? It is dreadfully upsetting, don't you feeling that at any moment you may rush in and--"

"I like that. In my own castle, too!"

"There is ample room for both of us, " she said sharply. "I shan't behere for more than a month or six weeks, and I am sure we can get alongvery amiably under the same roof for that length of time if you'llonly forget that I am here. "

"I can't very well do that, madam. You see, we are making extensiverepairs about the place and you are proving to be a serious obstacle. I cannot grant your request. It will grieve me enormously if I amcompelled to smoke you out but I fear--"

"Smoke me out!"

"Perhaps with sulphur, " I went on resolutely. "It is said to be veryeffective. "

"Surely you will not do anything so horrid. "

"Only as a last resort. First, we shall storm the east wing. Failingin that we shall rely on smoke. You will admit that you have no rightto poach on my preserves. "

"None whatever, " she said, rather plaintively. 

I can't remember having heard a sweeter voice than hers. Of course, by this time, I was thoroughly convinced that she was a lady, --acultured, high-bred lady, --and an American. I was too densely envelopedby the fogginess of my own senses at this time, however, to take inthis extraordinary feature of the case. Later on, in the seclusion ofmy study, the full force of it struck me and I marvelled. 

That plaintive note in her voice served its purpose. My firmness seemedto dissolve, even as I sought to reinforce it by an injection ofharshness into my own manner of speech. 

"Then you should be willing to vacate my premises er--or--"here iswhere I began to show irresoluteness--"or explain yourself. "

"Won't you be generous?"

I cleared my throat nervously. How well they know the cracks in a man'sarmour!

"I am willing to be--amenable to reason. That's all you ought toexpect. " A fresh idea took root. "Can't we effect a compromise? Atruce, or something of the sort? All I ask is that you explain yourpresence here. I will promise to be as generous as possible under thecircumstances. "

"Will you give me three days in which to think it over?" she asked, after a long pause. 

"No. "

"Well, two days?"

"I'll give you until to-morrow afternoon at five, when I shall expectyou to receive me in person. "

"That is quite impossible. "

"But I demand the right to go wherever I please in my own castle. You--"

"If you knew just how circumspect I am obliged to be at present youwouldn't impose such terms, Mr. Smart. "

"Oho! Circumspect! That puts a new light on the case. What have youbeen up to, madam?" I spoke very severely. 

She very properly ignored the banality. "If I should write you a nice, agreeable letter, explaining as much as I can, won't you be satisfied?"

"I prefer to have it by word of mouth. "

She seemed to be considering. "I will come to this window to-morrownight at this time and--and let you know, " she said reluctantly. 

"Very well, " said I. "We'll let it rest till then. "

"And, by the way, I have something more to ask of you. Is it quitenecessary to have all this pounding and hammering going on in thecastle? The noise is dreadful. I don't ask it on my own account, butfor the baby. You see, she's quite ill with a fever, Mr. Smart. Perhapsyou've heard her crying. "

"The baby?" I muttered. 

"It is nothing serious, of course. The doctor was here to-day and hereassured me--"

"A--a doctor here to-day?" I gasped. 

She laughed once more. Verily, it was a gentle, high-bred laugh. 

"Will you please put a stop to the noise for a day or two?" she asked, very prettily. 

"Certainly, " said I too surprised to say anything else. "Is--is thereanything else?"

"Nothing, thank you, " she replied. Then: "Good night, Mr. Smart. Youare very good. "

"Don't forget to-morrow--"

But the oblong aperture disappeared with a sharp click, and I foundmyself staring at the blank, sphynx-like wall. 

Taking up my pad, my pipe and my pencil, and leaving all of my cherishedideas out there in the cruel darkness, never to be recovered, --at leastnot in their original form, --I scrambled through the window, painfullyscraping my knee in passing, --just in time to escape the deluge. 

I am sure I should have enjoyed a terrific drenching if she had chosento subject me to it. 

CHAPTER IV

I BECOME AN ANCESTOR

True to the promise she had extracted from me, I laid off my workmenthe next morning. They trooped in bright and early, considerablyaugmented by fresh recruits who came to share the benefits of myinnocuous prodigality, and if I live to be a thousand I shall neveragain experience such a noisome half hour as the one I spent inlistening to their indignant protests against my tyrannical oppressionof the poor and needy. In the end, I agreed to pay them, one and all, for a full day's work, and they went away mollified, calling me a truegentleman to my face and heaven knows what to my back. 

I spoke gently to them of the sick baby. With one voice they allshouted:

"But _our_ babies are sick!"

One octogenarian--a carpenter's apprentice--heatedly informed me, through Schmick, that he had a child two weeks old that would diebefore morning if deprived of proper food and nourishment. Somewhatimpressed by this pitiful lament, I enquired how his wife was gettingalong. The ancient, being in a placid state of senility, courteouslythanked me for my interest, and answered that she had been dead forforty-nine years, come September. I overlooked the slight discrepancy. 

During the remainder of the day, I insisted on the utmost quiet in ourwing of the castle. Poopendyke was obliged to take his typewriter outto the stables, where I dictated scores of letters to him. I caughtBritton whistling in the kitchen about noon-time, and severelyreprimanded him. We went quite to the extreme, however, when we tiptoedabout our lofty halls. All of the afternoon we kept a sharp lookoutfor the doctor, but if he came we were none the wiser. Britton wentinto the town at three with the letters and a telegram to my friendsin Vienna, imploring them to look up a corps of efficient servants forme and to send them on post-haste. I would have included a request fora competent nurse-maid if it hadn't been for a report from Poopendyke, who announced that he had caught a glimpse of a very nursy lookingperson at one of the upper windows earlier in the day. 

I couldn't, however, for the life of me understand why my neighbourenjoined such rigid silence in our part of the castle and yet permittedthat confounded dog of hers to yowl and bark all day. How was I toknow that the beast had treed a lizard in the lower hall and couldn'tdislodge it?

Britton returned with news. The ferrymen, with great joy in the telling, informed him that the season for tourists parties was just beginningand that we might expect, with them, to do a thriving and prosperousbusiness during the next month or two. Indeed, word already had beenreceived by the tourists company's agent in the town that a party ofone hundred and sixty-nine would arrive the next day but one fromMunchen, bent on visiting my ruin. In great trepidation, I had all ofthe gates and doors locked and reinforced by sundry beams and slabs, for I knew the overpowering nature of the collective tourist. 

I may be pardoned if I digress at this time to state that the partyof one hundred and sixty-nine, both stern and opposite, besieged mycastle on the next day but one, with the punctuality of locusts, anddespite all of my precautions, all of my devices, all of my objections, effected an entrance and over-ran the place like a swarm of ants. Thefeat that could not have been accomplished by an armed force wassuccessfully managed by a group of pedagogues from Ohio, to whom "Keepoff the Grass" and "No Trespass" are signs of utter impotence on thepart of him who puts them up, and ever shall be, world without end. They came, they saw, they conquered, and they tried to buy picturepostcards of me. 

I mention this in passing, lest you should be disappointed. More anon. 

Punctually at nine o'clock, I was in the balcony, thanking my luckystars that it was a bright, moonlit night. There was every reason torejoice in the prospect of seeing her face clearly when she appearedat her secret little window. Naturally, I am too much of a gentlemanto have projected unfair means of illuminating her face, such as theuse of a pocket electric lamp or anything of that sort. I am nothingif not gallant, --when it comes to a pinch. Besides, I was reasonablycertain that she would wear a thick black veil. In this I was wrong. She wore a white, filmy one, but it served the purpose. I naturallyconcluded that she was homely. 

"Good evening, " she said, on opening the window. 

"Good evening, " said I, contriving to conceal my disappointment. "Howis the baby?"

"Very much better, thank you. It was so good of you to stop theworkmen. "

[Illustration: I sat bolt upright and yelled; "Get out!"]

"Won't you take off your veil and stay awhile?" I asked, politelyfacetious. "It isn't quite fair to me, you know. "

Her next remark brought a blush of confusion to my cheek. A sillynotion had induced me to don my full evening regalia, spike-tail coatand all. Nothing could have been more ludicrously incongruous than myappearance, I am sure, and I never felt more uncomfortable in my life. 

"How very nice you look in your new suit, " she said, and I was awareof a muffled quality in her ordinarily clear, musical voice. She waslaughing at me. "Are you giving a dinner party?"

"I usually dress for dinner, " I lied with some haughtiness. "And sodoes Poopendyke, " I added as an afterthought. My blush deepened as Irecalled the attenuated blazer in which my secretary breakfasted, lunched and dined without discrimination. 

"For Gretel's benefit, I presume. "

"Aha! You _do_ know Gretel, then?"

"Oh, I've known her for years. Isn't she a quaint old dear?"

"I shall discharge her in the morning, " said I severely. "She is aliar and her husband is a poltroon. They positively deny your existencein any shape or form. "

"They won't pay any attention to you, " said she, with a laugh. "Theyare fixtures, quite as much so as the walls themselves. You'll not beable to discharge them. My grandfather tried it fifty years ago andfailed. After that he made it a point to dismiss Conrad every day inthe year and Gretel every other day. As well try to remove the mountain, Mr. Smart. They know you can't get on without them. "

"I have discharged her as a cook, " I said, triumphantly. "A new onewill be here by the end of the week. "

"Oh, " she sighed plaintively, "how glad I am. She is an atrocious cook. I don't like to complain, Mr. Smart, but really it is getting so thatI can't eat _anything_ she sends up. It is jolly of you to get in a newone. Now we shall be very happy. "

"By Jove!" said I, completely staggered by these revelations. Unableto find suitable words to express my sustained astonishment, I repeated:"By Jove!" but in a subdued tone. 

"I have thought it over, Mr. Smart, " she went on in a business-likemanner, "and I believe we will get along much better together if westay apart. "

Ambiguous remarks ordinarily reach my intelligence, but I was so stunnedby preceding admissions that I could only gasp:

"Do you mean to say you've been subsisting all this time on _my_ food?"

"Oh, dear me, no! How can you think that of me? Gretel merely cooksthe food I buy. She keeps a distinct and separate account of everything, poor thing. I am sure you will not find anything wrong with your bills, Mr. Smart. But did you hear what I said a moment ago?"

"I'm not quite sure that I did. "

"I prefer to let matters stand just as they are. Why should wediscommode each other? We are perfectly satisfied as we--"

"I will not have my new cook giving notice, madam. You surely can'texpect her--or him--to prepare meals for two separate--"

"I hadn't thought of that, " she interrupted ruefully. "Perhaps if Iwere to pay her--or him--extra wages it would be all right, " sheadded, quickly. "We do not require much, you know. "

I laughed rather shortly, --meanly, I fear. 

"This is most extraordinary, madam!"

"I--I quite agree with you. I'm awfully sorry it had to turn out asit has. Who would have dreamed of your buying the place and cominghere to upset everything?"

I resolved to be firm with her. She seemed to be taking too much forgranted. "Much as I regret it, madam, I am compelled to ask you toevacuate--to get out, in fact. This sort of thing can't go on. "

She was silent for so long that I experienced a slow growth ofcompunction. Just as I was on the point of slightly receding from myposition, she gave me another shock. 

"Don't you think it would be awfully convenient if you had a telephoneput in, Mr. Smart?" she said. "It is such a nuisance to send Max orRudolph over to town every whip-stitch on errands when a telephone--in your name, of course--would be so much more satisfactory. "

"A telephone!" I gasped. 

"Circumstances make it quite unwise for me to have a telephone in myown name, but you could have one in yours without creating the leastsuspicion. You are--"

"Madam, " I cried, and got no farther. 

"--perfectly free to have a telephone if you want one, " she continued. "The doctor came this evening and it really wasn't necessary. Don'tyou see you could have telephoned for me and saved him the trip?"

It was due to the most stupendous exertion of self-restraint on mypart that I said: "Well, I'll be--jiggered, " instead of something alittle less unique. Her audacity staggered me. (I was not prepared atthat time to speak of it as superciliousness. )

"Madam, " I exploded, "will you be good enough to listen to me? I amnot to be trifled with. To-morrow sometime I shall enter the east wingof this building if I have to knock down all the doors on the place. Do you understand, madam?"

"I do hope, Mr. Smart, you can arrange to break in about five o'clock. It will afford me a great deal of pleasure to give you some tea. MayI expect you at five--or thereabouts?"

Her calmness exasperated me. I struck the stone balustrade an emphaticblow with my fist, sorely peeling the knuckles, and ground out:

"For two cents I'd do it to-night!"

"Oh, dear, --oh, dear!" she cried mockingly. 

"You must be a dreadful woman, " I cried out. "First, you make yourselfat home in my house; then you succeed in stopping my workmen, stealmy cook and men-servants, keep us all awake with a barking dog, defyingme to my very face--"

"How awfully stern you are!"

"I don't believe a word you say about a sick baby, --or a doctor! It'sall poppy-cock. To-morrow you will find yourself, bag and baggage, sitting at the bottom of this hill, waiting for--"

"Wait!" she cried. "Are you really, truly in earnest?"

"Most emphatically!"

"Then I--I shall surrender, " she said, very slowly, --and seriously, I was glad to observe. 

"That's more like it, " I cried, enthusiastically. 

"On one condition, " she said. "You must agree in advance to let mestay on here for a month or two. It--it is most imperative, Mr. Smart. "

"I shall be the sole judge of that, madam, " I retorted, with somedignity. "By the way, " I went on, knitting my brows, "how am I to getinto your side of the castle? Schmick says he's lost the keys. "

A good deal depended on her answer. 

"They shall be delivered to you to-morrow morning, Mr. Smart, " shesaid, soberly. "Good night. "

The little window closed with a snap and I was left alone in the smilingmoonlight. I was vastly excited, even thrilled by the prospect of asleepless night. Something told me I wouldn't sleep a wink, and yetI, who bitterly resent having my sleep curtailed in the slightestdegree, held no brief against circumstances. In fact, I rather revelledin the promise of nocturnal distraction. Fearing, however, that I mightdrop off to sleep at three or four o'clock and thereby run the riskof over sleeping, I dashed off to the head of the stairs and shoutedfor Britton. 

"Britton, " I said. "I want to be called at seven o'clock sharp in themorning. " Noting his polite struggle to conceal his astonishment, Itold him of my second encounter with the lady across the way. 

"She won't be expecting you at seven, sir, " he remarked. "And, as forthat, she may be expecting to call on you, instead of the other wayround. "

"Right!" said I, considerably dashed. 

"Besides, sir, would it not be safer to wait till the tourist partyhas come and gone?"

"No tourists enter this place to-morrow or any other day, " I declared, firmly. 

"Well, I'd suggest waiting just the same, sir, " said he, evidentlyinspired. 

"Confound them, " I growled, somehow absorbing his presentiment. 

He hesitated for a moment near the door. 

"Will you put in the telephone, sir?" he asked, respectfully. 

Very curiously, I was thinking of it at that instant. 

"It really wouldn't be a bad idea, Britton, " I said, startled intocommitting myself. "Save us a great deal of legging it over town andall that sort of thing, eh?"

"Yes, sir. What I was about to suggest, sir, is that while we're aboutit we might as well have a system of electric bells put in. That isto say, sir, in both wings of the castle. Very convenient, sir, yousee, for all parties concerned. "

"I see, " said I, impressed. And then repeated it, a little moreimpressed after reflection. "I see. You are a very resourceful fellow, Britton. I am inclined to bounce all of the Schmicks. They have knownabout this from the start and have lied like thieves. By Jove, shemust have an extraordinary power over them, --or claim, --or somethingequally potent. Now I think of it, she mentioned a grandfather. Thatwould go to prove she's related in some way to some one, wouldn't it?"

"I should consider it to be more than likely, sir, " said Britton, witha perfectly straight face. He must have been sorely tried in the faceof my inane maunderings. "Pardon me, sir, but wouldn't it be a tip-topidea to have it out with the Schmicks to-night? Being, sir, as youanticipate a rather wakeful night, I only make so bold as to suggestit in the hopes you may 'ave some light on the subject before you closeyour eyes. In other words, sir, so as you won't be altogether in thedark when morning comes. See wot I mean?"

"Excellent idea, Britton. We'll have them up in my study. "

He went off to summon my double-faced servitors, while I wended my wayto the study. There I found. Mr. Poopendyke, sound asleep in a greatarm-chair, both his mouth and his nose open and my first novel alsoopen in his lap. 

Conrad and Gretel appeared with Britton after an unconscionable lapseof time, partially dressed and grumbling. 

"Where are your sons?" I demanded, at once suspicious. 

Conrad shook his sparsely covered head and mumbled something abouteach being his brother's keeper, all of which was Greek to me untilBritton explained that they were not to be found in their customaryquarters, --that is to say, in bed. Of course it was quite clear tome that my excellent giants were off somewhere, serving the interestsof the bothersome lady in the east wing. 

"Conrad, " said I, fixing the ancient with a stern, compelling gaze, "this has gone quite far enough. "

"Yes, mein herr?"

"Do you serve me, or do you serve the lady in the east wing?"

"I do, " said he, with a great deal more wit than I thought he possessed. For a moment I was speechless, but not for the reason you may suspect. I was trying to fix my question and his response quite clearly in mymemory so that I might employ them later in the course of a conversationbetween characters in my forthcoming novel. 

"I have been talking with the lady this evening, " said I. 

"Yes, mein herr; I know, " said he. 

"Oh, you do, eh? Well, will you be good enough to tell me what thedevil is the meaning of all this two-faced, underhanded conduct onyour part?"

He lowered his head, closed his thin lips and fumbled with the hem ofhis smock in a significantly sullen manner. It was evident that hemeant to defy me. His sharp little eyes sent a warning look at Gretel, who instantly ceased her mutterings and gave over asking God to bearwitness to something or other. She was always dragging in the Deity. 

"Now, see here, Conrad, I want the truth from you. Who is this woman, and why are you so infernally set upon shielding her? What crime hasshe committed? Tell me at once, or, by the Lord Harry, out you goto-morrow, --all of you. "

"I am a very old man, " he whined, twisting his gnarled fingers, asuggestion of tears in his voice. "My wife is old, mein herr. You wouldnot be cruel. We have been here for sixty years. The old baron--"

"Enough!" I cried resolutely. "Out with it, man. I mean all that Isay. "

He was still for a long time, looking first at the floor and then atme; furtive, appealing, uncertain little glances from which he hopedto derive comfort by catching me with a twinkle in my eye. I have astupid, weak way of letting a twinkle appear there even when I amtrying to be harsh and domineering. Britton has noticed it frequently, I am sure, and I think he rather depends upon it. But now I realised, if never before, that to betray the slightest sign of gentleness wouldbe to forever forfeit my standing as master in my own house. Conradsaw no twinkle. He began to weaken. 

"To-morrow, mein herr, to-morrow, " he mumbled, in a final plea. I shookmy head. "She will explain everything to-morrow, " he went on eagerly. "I am sworn to reveal nothing, mein herr. My wife, too, and my sons. We may not speak until she gives the word. Alas! we shall be turnedout to die in our--"

"We have been faithful servants to the Rothhoefens for sixty years, "sobbed his wife. 

"And still are, I suspect, " I cried angrily. 

"Ach, mein herr, mein herr!" protested Conrad, greatly perturbed. 

"Where are the keys, you old rascal?" I demanded so sternly that evenPoopendyke was startled. 

Conrad almost resorted to the expediency of grovelling. "Forgive!forgive!" he groaned. "I have done only what was best. "

"Produce the keys, sir!"

"But not to-night, not to-night, " he pleaded. "She will be very angry. She will not like it, mein herr. Ach, Gott! She will drive us out, shewill shame us all! Ach, and she who is so gentle and so unhappy andso--so kind, to all of us! I--I cannot--I cannot! No!"

Mr. Poopendyke's common sense came in very handily at this criticaljuncture. He counselled me to let the matter rest until the nextmorning, when, it was reasonable to expect, the lady herself wouldexplain everything. Further appeal to Schmick was like butting one'shead against a stone wall, he said. Moreover, Conrad's loyalty to thelady was most commendable. 

Conrad and Gretel beamed on Poopendyke. They thanked him so profoundly, that I couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for myself, a tyrant withouta backbone. 

"Jah, jah!" Conrad cried gladly. "To-morrow she will explain. Timeenough, Herr Poopendyke. Time enough, eh?"

"Well, " said I, somewhat feebly, "where do I come in?"

They caught the note of surrender in my voice and pounced upon theiropportunity. Before they had finished with me, it was quite thoroughlyestablished that I was not to come in at all until my neighbour wasready to admit me. They convinced me that I was a meek, futile suppliantand not the master of a feudal stronghold. Somehow I was made to feelthat if I didn't behave myself I stood in considerable danger of beingturned off the place. However, we forced something out of Schmickbefore his stalwart sons came tramping up the stairs to rescue him. The old man gave us a touch of inside history concerning SchlossRothhoefen and its erstwhile powerful barons, not to minimise in theleast sense the peculiar prowess of the present Amazon who held forthto-night in the east wing and who, I had some reason to suspect, wasone of the family despite the unmistakable flavour of Fifth Avenue andNewport. 

About the middle of the nineteenth century the last of the realbarons, --the powerful, land-owning, despotic barons, I mean, --came tothe end of his fourscore years and ten, and was laid away with greatpomp and glee by the people of the town across the river. He was thelast of the Rothhoefens, for he left no male heir. His two daughtershad married Austrian noblemen, and neither of them produced a maledescendant. The estate, already in a state of financial as well asphysical disintegration, fell into the hands of women, and went frombad to worse so rapidly that long before the last quarter of the centurywas fairly begun the castle and the reduced holdings slipped away fromthe Rothhoefens altogether and into the control of the father of theCount from whom I purchased the property. The Count's father, itappears, was a distiller of great wealth in his day, and a man ofaction. Unfortunately he died before he had the chance to carry outhis projects in connection with the rehabilitation of SchlossRothhoefen, even then a deserted, ramshackle resort for paying touristsand a Mecca for antique and picture dealers. 

The new Count--my immediate predecessor--was not long in dissipatingthe great fortune left by his father, the worthy distiller. He had runthrough with the bulk of his patrimony by the time he was twenty-fiveand was pretty much run down at the heel when he married in the hopeof recouping his lost fortune. 

The Schmicks did not like him. They did not approve of him as lord andmaster, nor was it possible for them to resign themselves to the fatethat had put this young scapegrace into the shoes, so to speak, of thegrim old barons Rothhoefen, who whatever else they may have been ina high-handed sort of way were men to the core. This pretender, thiscreature without brains or blood, this sponging reprobate, was not totheir liking, if I am to quote Conrad, who became quite forceful inhis harangue against the recent order of things. 

He, his wife and his sons, he assured me, were full of rejoicing whenthey learned that the castle had passed from Count Hohendahl's handsinto mine. I, at least, would pay them their wages and I might, in apinch, be depended upon to pension them when they got too old to beof any use about the castle. 

At any rate, it seems, I was a distinct improvement over the Count, who had been their master for a dozen very lean and unprofitable years. Things might be expected to look up a bit, with me at the head of thehouse. Was it not possible for a new and mighty race to rise and takethe place of the glorious Rothhoefens? A long line of Baron Schmarts?With me as the prospective root of a thriving family tree! At least, that is what Conrad said, and I may be pardoned for quoting him. 

I am truly sorry the old rascal put it into my head. 

But the gist of the whole matter was this: There are no moreRothhoefens, and soon, God willing, there would be no more Hohendahls. Long live the Schmarts! Conrad invariably pronounced my name with theextra consonants and an umlaut. 

All attempts on my part to connect the lady in the east wing with thehistory of the extinct Rothhoefens were futile. He would not commithimself. 

"Well, " said I, yawning in helpless collusion with the sleepy Gretel, "we'll let it go over till morning. Call me at seven, Britton. "

Conrad made haste to assure me that the lady would not receive mebefore eleven o'clock. He begged me to sleep till nine, and to havepleasant dreams. 

I went to bed but not to sleep. It was very clear to me that myneighbour was a disturber in every sense of the word. She wouldn't letme sleep. For two hours I tried to get rid of her, but she filteredinto my brain and prodded my thoughts into the most violent activity. She wouldn't stay put. 

My principal thoughts had to do with her identity. Somehow I got itinto my head that she was one of the female Rothhoefens, pitiablenonentities if Conrad's estimate is to be accepted. A descendant ofone of those girl-bearing daughters of the last baron! It sounded veryagreeable to my fancy's ear, and I cuddled the hope that my surmisewas not altogether preposterous. 

My original contention that she was a poor relation of old Schmick andsomewhat dependent upon him for charity--to say the least--had beenset aside for more reliable convictions. Instead of being dependentupon the Schmicks, she seemed to be in an exalted position that gaveher a great deal more power over them than even I possessed: theyserved her, not me. From time to time there occurred to me the thoughtthat my own position in the household was rather an ignoble one, andthat I was a very weak and incompetent successor to baronial privileges, to say nothing of rights. A real baron would have had her out of therebefore you could mention half of Jack Robinson, and there wouldn'thave been any sleep lost over distracting puzzles. I deplored my lackof bad manners. 

It was quite reasonable to assume that she was young, but the oddswere rather against her being beautiful. Pretty women usually adjuresuch precautions as veils. Still, this was speculation, and my reasoningis not always sound, for which I sometimes thank heaven. She had ababy. At least, I suppose it was hers. If not, whose? This set me offon a new and apparently endless round of speculation, obviously sillyand sentimental. 

Now I have humbly tried to like babies. My adolescent friends andacquaintances have done their best to educate me along this particularline, with the result that I suppose I despise more babies than anyman in the world. My friends, it would appear, are invariably marriedto each other and they all have babies for me to go into false ecstasiesover. No doubt babies are very nice when they don't squawk or pullyour nose or jab you in the eye, but through some strange and prevailingmisfortune I have never encountered one when it was asleep. If theyare asleep, the parents compel me to walk on tip-toe and speak inwhispers at long range; the instant they awake and begin to yawp, Iam ushered into the presence, or vice versa, and the whole world growsvery small and congested and is carried about in swaddling clothes. 

There is but one way for a bachelor to overcome his horror of babies, and he shouldn't wait too long. 

I went to sleep about four o'clock, still oppressed by the dread ofmeeting a new baby. 

My contact with the one hundred and sixty-nine sight-seers was briefbut exceedingly convincing. They invaded the castle before I was outof bed, having--as I afterwards heard--the breweries, an art galleryand the Zoological gardens to visit before noon and therefore wererequired to make an early start. The cathedral, which is always opento visitors and never has any one sleeping in it, was reserved for theafternoon. 

I was aroused from my belated sleep by the sound of mighty cataractsand the tread of countless elephants. Too late I realised that thetourists were upon me! Too late I remembered that the door to my roomhad been left unlocked! The hundred and sixty-nine were huddled outsidemy door, drinking in the monotonous drivel of the guide who had ashrill, penetrating voice and not the faintest notion of a conscience. 

I listened in dismay for a moment, and then, actuated by somethingmore than mere fury, leaped out of bed and prepared for a dash acrossthe room to lock the door. On the third stride I whirled and made aflying leap into the bed, scuttling beneath the covers with the speedand accuracy of a crawfish. Just in time, too, for the heavy door swungslowly open a second later, and the shrill, explanatory voice wasprojected loudly into my lofty bed chamber. 

"Come a little closer, please, " said the morose man with the cap. "Thisroom was occupied for centuries by the masters of Schloss Rothhoefen. It is a bed chamber. See the great baronial bed. It has not been sleptin for more than two hundred years. The later barons refused to sleepin it because one of their ancestors had been assassinated between itssheets at the tender age of six. He was stabbed by a step-uncle whoplayed him false. This room is haunted. Observe the curtains of thebed. They are of the rarest silk and have been there for three hundredyears, coming from Damascus in the year 1695. Now we will pass on tothe room occupied by all of the great baronesses up to the nineteenth--"

A resolute beholder spoke up: "Can't we step inside?"

"If you choose, madam. But we must waste no time. "

"I do so want to see where the old barons slept. "

"Please do not handle the bedspreads and curtains. They will fall topieces--"

I heard no more, for the vanguard had pushed him aside and was swoopingdown upon me. A sharp-nosed lady led the way. She was within threefeet of the bed and was stretching out her hand to touch the proscribedfabrics when I sat bolt upright and yelled:

"Get out!"

Afterwards I was told that the guide was the first to reach the bottomof the stairs and that he narrowly escaped death in the avalanche ofhorrified humanity that piled after him, pursued by the puissant ghostof a six-year-old ancestor. 

CHAPTER V

I MEET THE FOE AND FALL

The post that morning, besides containing a telegram from Viennaapprising me of the immediate embarkation of four irreproachable angelsin the guise of servants, brought a letter from my friends the Hazzards, inquiring when my castle would be in shape to receive and dischargehouse parties without subjecting them to an intermediate season ofperil from drafts, leaky roofs, damp sheets and vampires. 

They implored me to snatch them and one or two friends from theunbearable heat of the city, if only for a few days, appending the sadinformation that they were swiftly being reduced to grease spots. DearElsie added a postscript of unusual briefness and clarity in which shespelt grease with an e instead of an a, but managed to consign me topurgatory if I permitted her to become a spot no larger than the inkyblot she naively deposited beside her signature, for all the worldlike the seal on a death warrant. 

I sat down and looked about me in gloomy despair. No words can describethe scene, unless we devote a whole page to repeating the word "dismal. "Devastation always appears to be more complete of a morning I haveobserved in my years of experience. A plasterer's scaffolding thatlooks fairly nobby at sunset is a grim, unsightly skeleton atbreakfast-time. A couple of joiners' horses, a matrix or two, a pileof shavings and some sawed-off blocks scattered over the floor producea matutinal conception of chaos that hangs over one like a pall untilhis aesthetic sense is beaten into subjection by the hammers of amillion demons in the guise of carpenters. Morning in the midst ofrepairs is an awful thing! I looked, despaired and then dictated aletter to the Hazzards, urging them to come at once with all theirsweltering friends!

I needed some one to make me forget. 

At eleven o'clock, Poopendyke brought me a note from the chatelaineof the east wing. It had been dropped into the courtyard from one ofthe upper windows. The reading of it transformed me into a stern, relentless demon. She very calmly announced that she had a headacheand couldn't think of being disturbed that day and probably not thenext. 

My mind was made up in an instant. I would not be put off by aheadache, --which was doubtless assumed for the occasion, --and I wouldbe master of my castle or know the reason why, etc. 

In the courtyard I found a score or more of idle artisans, banishedby the on-sweeping tourists and completely forgotten by me in theexcitement of the hour. Commanding them to fetch their files, saws, broad-axes and augurs, I led the way to the mighty doors that barredmy entrance to the other side. Utterly ignoring the supplications ofConrad Schmick and the ominous frowns of his two sons, we set aboutfiling off the padlocks, and chiselling through the wooden panels. Istood over my toiling minions and I venture to say that they neverworked harder or faster in their lives. By twelve o'clock we had thegreat doors open and swept on to the next obstruction. 

At two o'clock the last door in the east ante-chamber gave way beforeour resolute advance and I stood victorious and dusty in the littlerecess at the top of the last stairway. Beyond the twentieth centuryportieres of a thirteenth century doorway lay the goal we sought. Ihesitated briefly before drawing them apart and taking the final plunge. As a matter of fact, I was beginning to feel ashamed of myself. Supposethat she _really_ had a headache! What an uncouth, pusillanimousbrute I--

Just then, even as my hand fell upon the curtains, they were snatchedaside and I found myself staring into the vivid, uptilted face of thelady who had defied me and would continue to do so if my suddenlyactive perceptions counted for anything. 

I saw nothing but the dark, indignant, imperious eyes. They fairlywithered me. 

In some haste, attended by the most disheartening nervousness, I triedto find my cap to remove it in the presence of royalty. UnfortunatelyI was obliged to release the somewhat cumbersome crowbar I had beencarrying about with me, and it dropped with a sullen thwack upon mytoes. In moments of gravity I am always doing something like that. Thepain was terrific, but I clutched at the forlorn hope that she mightat least smile over my agony. 

"I beg your pardon, " I began, and then discovered that I was not wearinga cap. It was most disconcerting. 

"So you _would_ come, " she said, very coldly and very levelly. I have adistinct recollection of shrinking. If you have ever tried to standflatly upon a foot whose toes are crimped by an excruciating pain youmay understand something of the added discomfiture that afflicted me. 

"It--it was necessary, madam, " I replied as best I could. "You defiedme. I think you should have appreciated my position--mymotives--er--my--"

She silenced me--luckily, heaven knows--with a curt exclamation. 

"Your position! It is intensely Napoleonic, " said she with fine irony. Her gaze swept my horde of panting, wide-eyed house-breakers. "Whata noble victory!"

It was quite time for me to assert myself. Bowing very stiffly, Iremarked:

"I regret exceedingly to have been forced to devastate my own propertyin such a trifling enterprise, madam. The physical loss isapparent, --you can see that for yourself, --but of course you have nomeans of estimating the mental destruction that has been going on fordays and days. You have been hacking away at my poor, distracted brainso persistently that it really had to give way. In a measure, thisshould account for my present lapse of sanity. Weak-mindedness is nota crime, but an affliction. "

She did not smile. 

"Well, now that you are here, Mr. Smart, may I be so bold as to inquirewhat you are going to do about it?"

I reflected. "I think, if you don't mind, I'll come in and sit down. That was a deuce of a rap I got across the toes. I am sure to be agreat deal more lenient and agreeable if I'm _asked_ to come in and seeyou. Incidentally, I thought I'd step up to inquire how your headache isgetting on. Better, I hope?"

She turned her face away. I suspected a smile. 

"If you choose to bang your old castle to pieces, in order to satisfya masculine curiosity, Mr. Smart, I have nothing more to say, " shesaid, facing me again--still ominously, to my despair. Confound itall, she was such a slim, helpless little thing--and all alone againsta mob of burly ruffians! I could have kicked myself, but even thatwould have been an aimless enterprise in view of the fact thatPoopendyke or any of the others could have done it more accuratelythan I and perhaps with greater respect. "Will you be good enough tosend your--your army away, or do you prefer to have it on hand in caseI should take it into my head to attack you?"

"Take 'em away, Mr. Poopendyke, " I commanded hurriedly. I didn't mindPoopendyke hearing what she said, but it would be just like one ofthose beggars to understand English--and also to misunderstand it. "And take this beastly crowbar with you, too. It has served its purposenobly. "

Poopendyke looked his disappointment, and I was compelled to repeatthe order. As they crowded down the short, narrow stairway, I remarkedold Conrad and his two sons standing over against the wall, three verysinister figures. They remained motionless. 

"I see, madam, that you do not dismiss _your_ army, " I said, blandlysarcastic. 

"Oh, you dear old Conrad!" she cried, catching sight of the hithertosubmerged Schmicks. The three of them bobbed and scraped and grinnedfrom ear to ear. There could be no mistaking the intensity of theirjoy. "Don't look so sad, Conrad. I know you are blameless. You poorold dear!"

I have never seen any one who looked less sad than Conrad Schmick. Orcould it be possible that he was crying instead of laughing? In eithercase I could not afford to have him doing it with such brazendiscourtesy to me, so I rather peremptorily ordered him below. 

"I will attend to you presently, --all of you, " said I. They did notmove. "Do you hear me?" I snapped angrily. They looked stolidly at theslim young lady. 

She smiled, rather proudly, I thought. "You may go, Conrad. I shallnot need you. Max, will you fetch up another scuttle of coal?"

They took their orders from her! It even seemed to me that Max movedswiftly, although it was doubtless a hallucination on my part, broughtabout by nervous excitement. 

"By Jove!" I said, looking after my trusty men-servants as theydescended. "I like _this!_ Are they my servants or yours?"

"Oh, I suppose they are yours, Mr. Smart, " she said carelessly. "Willyou come in now, and make yourself quite at home?"

"Perhaps I'd better wait for a day or two, " said I, wavering. "Yourheadache, you know. I can wait just as well as--"

"Oh, no. Since you've gone to all the trouble I suppose you ought tohave something for your pains. "

"Pains?" I murmured, and I declare to heaven I limped as I followedher through the door into a tiny hall. 

"You are a most unreasonable man, " she said, throwing open a smalldoor at the end of the hall. "I am terribly disappointed in you. Youlooked to be so nice and sensible and amiable. "

"Oh, I'm not such a nincompoop as you might suspect, madam, " said I, testily, far from complimented. I dislike being called nice, andsometimes I think it a mistake to be sensible. A sensible person nevergets anything out of life because he has to avoid so much of it. 

"And now, Mr. Smart, will you be kind enough to explain thisincomprehensible proceeding on your part?" she said, facing me sternly. 

But I was dumb. I stood just inside the door of the most remarkableapartment it has ever been my good fortune to look upon. My sensesreeled. Was I awake? Was this a part of the bleak, sinister, weather-racked castle in which I was striving so hard to find acomfortable corner?

"Well?" she demanded relentlessly. 

"By the Lord Harry, " I began, finding my tongue only to lose it again. My bewilderment increased, and for an excellent reason. 

The room was completely furnished, bedecked and rendered habitable byan hundred and one articles that were mysteriously missing from myside of the castle. Rugs, tapestries, curtains of the rarest quality;chairs, couches, and cushions; tables, cabinets and chests that wouldhave caused the eyes of the most conservative collector of antiquesto bulge with--not wonder--but greed; stands, pedestals, brasses, bronzes, porcelains--but why enumerate? On the massive oaken centretable stood the priceless silver vase we had missed on the second dayof our occupancy, and it was filled with fresh yellow roses. I sniffed. Their fragrance filled the room. 

And so complete had been the rifling of my rooms by the devoted vandalsin their efforts to make this lady cosy and comfortable that they didnot overlook a silver-framed photograph of my dear mother! Her sweetface met my gaze as it swept the mantel-piece, beneath which a coalfire crackled merrily. I am not quite sure, but I think I repeated "bythe Lord Harry" once if not twice before I caught myself up. 

I tried to smile. "How--how cosy you are here, " I said. 

"You couldn't expect me to live in this awful place without some ofthe comforts and conveniences of life, Mr. Smart, " she said defiantly. 

"Certainly not, " I said, promptly. "I am sure that you will excuse me, however, if I gloat. I was afraid we had lost all these things. You'veno idea how relieved I am to find them all safe and sound in my--intheir proper place. I was beginning to distrust the Schmicks. Now Iam convinced of their integrity. "

"I suppose you mean to be sarcastic. "

"Sarcasm at any price, madam, would be worse than useless, I am sure. "

Crossing to the fireplace, I selected a lump of coal from the scuttleand examined it with great care. She watched me curiously. 

"Do you recognise it?" she asked. 

"I do, " said I, looking up. "It has been in our family for generations. My favourite chunk, believe me. Still, I part with it cheerfully. "Thereupon I tossed it into the fire. "Don't be shocked! I shan't missit. We have coals to burn, madam!"

She looked at me soberly for a moment. There was something hurt andwistful in her dark eyes. 

"Of course, Mr. Smart, I shall pay you for everything--down to thesmallest trifle--when the time comes for me to leave this place. Ihave kept strict account of--"

She turned away, with a beaten droop of the proud little head, andagain I was shamed. Never have I felt so grotesquely out of proportionwith myself as at that moment. My stature seemed to increase from aneven six feet to something like twelve, and my bulk became elephantine. She was so slender, so lissom, so weak, and I so gargantuan, sogorilla-like, so heavy-handed! And I had come gaily up to crush her!What a fine figure of a man I was!

She did not complete the sentence, but walked slowly toward the window. I had a faint glimpse of a dainty lace handkerchief fiercely clutchedin a little hand. 

By nature I am chivalrous, even gallant. You may have reason to doubtit, but it is quite true. As I've never had a chance to be chivalrousexcept in my dreams or my imagination, I made haste to seize thisopportunity before it was too late. "Madam, " I said, with considerablefeeling. "I have behaved like a downright rotter to-day. I do not knowwho you are, nor why you are here, but I assure you it is of no realconsequence if you will but condescend to overlook my insufferable--"

She turned towards me. The wistful, appealing look still lingered inher eyes. The soft red nether lip seemed a bit tremulous. 

"I _am_ an intruder, " she interrupted, smiling faintly. "You have everyright to put me out of your--your home, Mr. Smart. I was a horrid pig todeprive you of all your nice comfortable chairs and--"

"I--I haven't missed them. "

"Don't you ever sit down?"

"I will sit down if you'll let me, " said I, feeling that I wouldn'tappear quite so gigantic if I was sitting. 

"Please do. The chairs all belong to you. "

"I'm sorry you put it in that way. They are yours as long as you chooseto--to occupy a furnished apartment here. "

"I have been very selfish, and cattish, and inconsiderate, Mr. Smart. You see, I'm a spoilt child. I've always had my own way in everything. You must look upon me as a very horrid, sneaking, conspiring person, and I--I really think you ought to turn me out. "

She came a few steps nearer. Under the circumstances I could not sitdown. So I stood towering above her, but somehow going through a processof physical and mental shrinkage the longer I remained confronting her. 

Suddenly it was revealed to me that she was the loveliest woman I hadever seen in all my life! How could I have been so slow in graspingthis great, bewildering truth? The prettiest woman I had ever lookedupon! Of course I had known it from the first instant that I lookedinto her eyes, but I must have been existing in a state of stupefactionup to this illuminating moment. 

I am afraid that I stared. 

"Turn you out?" I cried. "Turn you out of this delightful room afteryou've had so much trouble getting it into shape? Never!"

"Oh, you don't know how I've imposed upon you!" she cried plaintively. "You don't know how I've robbed you, and bothered you--"

"Yes, I do, " said I promptly. "I know all about it. You've been stealingmy coals, my milk, my ice, my potatoes, my servants, my sleep and"--here I gave a comprehensive sweep of my hand--"everything in sight. And you've made us walk on tip-toe to keep from waking the baby, and--"I stopped suddenly. "By the way, whose baby is it? Not yours, I'msure. "

To my surprise her eyes filled with tears. 

"Yes. She is my baby, Mr. Smart. "

My face fell. "Oh!" said I, and got no further for a moment or two. "I--I--please don't tell me you are married!"

"What would you think of me if I were to tell you I'm not?" she criedindignantly. 

"I beg your pardon, " I stammered, blushing to the roots of my hair. "Stupid ass!" I muttered. 

Crossing to the fireplace, she stood looking down into the coals fora long time, while I remained where I was, an awkward, gauche spectator, conscious of having put my clumsiest foot into my mouth every time Iopened it and wondering whether I could now safely get it out againwithout further disaster. 

Her back was toward me. She was dressed in a dainty, pinkish housegown--or maybe it was light blue. At any rate it was a very prettygown and she was wonderfully graceful in it. Ordinarily in my fictionI am quite clever at describing gowns that do not exist; but when itcomes to telling what a real woman is wearing, I am not only as vagueas a savage, but painfully stupid about colors. Still, I think it waspink. I recall the way her soft brown hair grew above the slender neck, and the lovely white skin; the smooth, delicate contour of herhalf-averted cheek and the firm little chin with the trembling redlips above it; the shapely back and shoulders and the graceful curvesof her hips, suggestive of a secret perfection. She was taller thanI had thought at first sight, or was it that I seemed to be gettingsmaller myself? A hasty bit of comparison placed her height at fivefeet six, using my own as something to go by. She couldn't have beena day over twenty-two. But she had a baby!

Facing me once more she said: "If you will sit down, Mr. Smart, andbe patient and generous with me, I shall try to explain everything. You have a right to demand it of me, and I shall feel more comfortableafter it is done. "

I drew up a chair beside the table and sat down. She sank gracefullyinto another, facing me. A delicate frown appeared on her brow. 

"Doubtless you are very much puzzled by my presence in this gloomy oldcastle. You have been asking yourself a thousand questions about me, and you have been shocked by my outrageous impositions upon your goodnature. I confess I have been shockingly impudent and--"

"Pardon me; you are the only sauce I've had for an excessively badbargain. "

"Please do not interrupt me, " she said coldly. "I am here, Mr. Smart, because it is the last place in the world where my husband would belikely to look for me. "

"Your husband? Look for you?"

"Yes. I shall be quite frank with you. My husband and I have separated. A provisional divorce was granted, however, just seven months ago. Thefinal decree cannot be issued for one year. "

"But why should you hide from him?"

"The--the court gave him the custody of our child during theprobationary year. I--I have run away with her. They are looking forme everywhere. That is why I came here. Do you understand?"

I was stunned. "Then, I take it, the court granted _him_ the divorce andnot you, " I said, experiencing a sudden chill about the heart. "You weredeprived of the child, I see. Dear me!"

"You are mistaken, " she said, a flash in her eyes. "It was an Austriancourt. The Count--my husband, I should say--is an Austrian subject. His interests must be protected. " She said this with a sneer on herpretty lips. "You see, my father, knowing him now for what he reallyis, has refused to pay over to him something like a million dollars, still due for the marriage settlement. The Count contends that it isa just and legal debt and the court supports him to this extent: thechild is to be his until the debt is cleared up, or something to thateffect. I really don't understand the legal complications involved. Perhaps it were better if I did. "

"I see, " said I, scornful in spite of myself. "One of those happyinternational marriages where a bride is thrown in for good measurewith a couple of millions. Won't we ever learn!"

"That's it precisely, " she said, with the utmost calmness and candour. "American dollars and an American girl in exchange for a title, a lotof debts and a ruined life. "

"And they always turn out just this way. What a lot of blithering foolswe have in the land of the free and the home of the knave!"

"My father objected to the whole arrangement from the first, so youmust not speak of him as a knave, " she protested. "He doesn't likeCounts and such things. "

"I don't see that it helps matters. I can hardly substitute the word'brave' for the one I used, " said I, trying to conceal my disgust. 

"Please don't misunderstand me, Mr. Smart, " she said haughtily. "I amnot asking for pity. I made my bed and I shall lie in it. The onlything I ask of you is--well, kindness. "

She seemed to falter again, and once more I was at her feet, figuratively speaking. 

"You are in distress, in dread of something, madam, " I cried. "Considerme your friend. "

She shook her head ruefully. "You poor man! You don't know what youare in for, I fear. Wait till I have told you everything. Three weeksago, I laid myself liable to imprisonment and heaven knows what elseby abducting my little girl. That is really what it comes to--abduction. The court has ordered my arrest, and all sorts of police persons aresearching high and low for me. Now don't you see your peril? If theyfind me here, you will be in a dreadful predicament. You will be chargedwith criminal complicity, or whatever it is called, and--Oh, it willbe frightfully unpleasant for you, Mr. Smart. "

My expression must have convicted me. She couldn't help seeing thedismay in my face. So she went on, quite humbly. 

"Of course you have but to act at once and all may be well for you. I--I will go if you--if you command me to--"

I struck my knee forcibly. "What do you take me for, madam? Hang theconsequences! If you feel that you are safe here--that is, comparativelysafe, --_stay!_"

"It will be terrible if you get into trouble with the law, " she murmuredin distress. "I--I really don't know what might happen to you. " Stillher eyes brightened. Like all the rest of her ilk, she was selfish. 

I tried to laugh, but it was a dismal failure. After all, wasn't itlikely to prove a most unpleasant matter? I felt the chill moisturebreaking out on my forehead. 

"Pray do not consider my position at all, " I managed to say, with aresolute assumption of gallantry. "I--I shall be perfectly able tolook out for myself, --that is, to explain everything if it should cometo the worst. " I could not help adding, however: "I certainly hope, however, that they don't get on to your trail and--" I stopped inconfusion. 

"And find me here?" she completed gloomily. 

"And take the child away from you, " I made haste to explain. 

A fierce light flamed in her eyes. "I should--kill--some one beforethat could happen, " she cried out, clenching her hands. 

"I--I beg of you, madam, don't work yourself into a--a state, " Iimplored, in considerable trepidation. "Nothing like that can happen, believe me. I--"

"Oh, what do you know about it?" she exclaimed, with most unnecessaryvehemence, I thought. "He wants the child and--and--well, you can seewhy he wants her, can't you? He is making the most desperate effortsto recover her. Max says the newspapers are full of the--the scandal. They are depicting me as a brainless, law-defying American withoutsense of love, honour or respect. I don't mind that, however. It isto be expected. They all describe the Count as a long-suffering, honourable, dreadfully maltreated person, and are doing what they canto help him in the prosecution of the search. My mother, who is inParis, is being shadowed; my two big brothers are being watched; mylawyers in Vienna are being trailed everywhere--oh, it is really amost dreadful thing. But--but I will not give her up! She is mine. Hedoesn't love her. He doesn't love me. He doesn't love anything in theworld but himself and his cigarettes. I know, for I've paid for hiscigarettes for nearly three years. He has actually ridiculed me incourt circles, he has defamed me, snubbed me, humiliated me, cursedme. You cannot imagine what it has been like. Once he struck me in--"

"Struck you!" I cried. 

"--in the presence of his sister and her husband. But I must notdistress you with sordid details. Suffice it to say, I turned at lastlike the proverbial worm. I applied for a divorce ten months ago. Itwas granted, provisionally as I say. He is a degenerate. He wasunfaithful to me in every sense of the word. But in spite of all that, the court in granting me the separation, took occasion to placatenational honour by giving him the child during the year, pending thefinal disposition of the case. Of course, everything depends on father'sattitude in respect to the money. You see what I mean? A month ago Iheard from friends in Vienna that he was shamefully neglecting our--mybaby, so I took this awful, this perfectly bizarre way of getting herout of his hands. Possession is nine points in the law, you see. I--'

"Alas!" interrupted I, shaking my head. "There is more than one wayto look at the law. I'm afraid you have got yourself into aserious--er--pickle. "'

"I don't care, " she said defiantly. "It is the law's fault for notprohibiting such marriages as ours. Oh, I know I must seem awfullyfoolish and idiotic to you, but--but it's too late now to back out, isn't it ?"

I did not mean to say it, but I did--and I said it with some conviction:"It is! You _must_ be protected. "

"Thank you, thank you!" she cried, clasping and unclasping her littlehands. I found myself wondering if the brute had dared to strike heron that soft, pink cheek!

Suddenly a horrible thought struck me with stunning force. 

"Don't tell me that your--your husband is the man who owned this castleup to a week ago, " I cried. "Count James Hohendahl?"

She shook her head. "No. He is not the man. " Seeing that I waited forher to go on, she resumed: "I know Count James quite well, however. He is my husband's closest friend. "

"Good heaven, " said I, in quick alarm. "That complicates matters, doesn't it? He may come here at any time. "

"It isn't likely, Mr. Smart. To be perfectly honest with you, I waiteduntil I heard you had bought the castle before coming here myself. Wewere in hiding at the house of a friend in Linz up to a week ago. Idid not think it right or fair to subject them to the notoriety or theperil that was sure to follow if the officers took it into their headsto look for me there. The day you bought the castle, I decided thatit was the safest place for me to stay until the danger blows over, or until father can arrange to smuggle me out of this awful country. That very night we were brought here in a motor. Dear old Conrad andMrs. Schmick took me in. They have been perfectly adorable, all ofthem. "

"May I enquire, madam, " said I stiffly, "how you came to select myabode as your hiding place?"

"Oh, I have forgotten to tell you that we lived here one whole summerjust after we were married. Count Hohendahl let us have the castle forour--our honey-moon. He was here a great deal of the time. All sortsof horrid, nasty, snobbish people were here to help us enjoy ourhoneymoon. I shall never forget that dreadful summer. My only friendswere the Schmicks. Every one else ignored and despised me, and theyall borrowed, won or stole money from me. I was compelled to playbridge for atrociously high stakes without knowing one card from theother. But, as I say, the Schmicks loved me. You see they were in thefamily ages and ages before I was born. "

"The family? What family?"

"The Rothhoefen family. Haven't they told you that my great-grandmotherwas a Rothhoefen? No? Well, she was. I belong to the third generationof American-born descendants. Doesn't it simplify matters, knowingthis?"

"Immensely, " said I, in something of a daze. 

"And so I came here, Mr. Smart, where hundreds of my ancestors spenttheir honeymoons, most of them perhaps as unhappily as I, and whereI knew a fellow-countryman was to live for awhile in order to get aplot for a new story. You see, I thought I might be a great help toyou in the shape of suggestion. "

She smiled very warmly, and I thought it was a very neat way of puttingit. Naturally it would be quite impossible to put her out after hearingthat she had already put herself out to some extent in order to assistme. 

"I can supply the villain for your story if you need one, and I cangive you oceans of ideas about noblemen. I am sorry that I can't giveyou a nice, sweet heroine. People hate heroines after they are marriedand live unhappily. You--"

"The public taste is changing, " I interrupted quickly. "Unhappymarriages are so common nowadays that the women who go into 'em arealways heroines. People like to read about suffering and anguish amongthe rich, too. Besides, you are a Countess. That puts you near thefirst rank among heroines. Don't you think it would be proper at thispoint to tell me who you are?"

She regarded me steadfastly for a moment, and then shook her head. 

"I'd rather not tell you my name, Mr. Smart. It really can't matter, you know. I've thought it all out very carefully, and I've decidedthat it is not best for you to know. You see if you don't know who itis you are sheltering, the courts can't hold you to account. You willbe quite innocent of deliberately contriving to defeat the law. No, I shall not tell you my name, nor my husband's, nor my father's. Ifyou'd like to know, however, I will tell you my baby's name. She's twoyears old and I think she'll like you to call her Rosemary. "

By this time I was quite hypnotised by this charming, confidenttrespasser upon my physical--and I was about to say my moral estate. Never have I known a more complacent violater of all the proprietiesof law and order as she appeared to be. She was a revelation; morethan that, she was an inspiration. What a courageous, independent, fascinating little buccaneer she was! Her calm tone of assurance, heroverwhelming confidence in herself, despite the occasional lapse intodespair, staggered me. I couldn't help being impressed. If I had hadany thought of ejecting her, bag and baggage, from my castle, it hadbeen completely knocked out of my head and I was left, you might say, in a position which gave me no other alternative than to considermyself a humble instrument in the furthering of her ends, whether Iwould or no. It was most amazing. Superior to the feeling of scorn Inaturally felt for her and her kind, --the fools who make internationalbeds and find them filled with thorns, --there was the delicioussensation of being able to rise above my prejudices and become a willingconspirator against that despot, Common Sense. 

She was very sure of herself, that was plain; and I am positive thatshe was equally sure of me. It isn't altogether flattering, either, to feel that a woman is so sure of you that there isn't any doubtconcerning her estimate of your offensive strength. Somehow one feelsan absence of physical attractiveness. 

"Rosemary, " I repeated. "And what am I to call you?"

"Even my enemies call me Countess, " she said coldly. 

"Oh, " said I, more respectfully. "I see. When am I to have the pleasureof meeting the less particular Rosemary?"

"I didn't mean to be horrid, " she said plaintively. "Please overlookit, Mr. Smart. If you are very, very quiet I think you may see hernow. She is asleep. "

"I may frighten her if she awakes, " I said in haste, remembering myantipathy to babies. 

Nevertheless I was led through a couple of bare, unfurnished roomsinto a sunny, perfectly adorable nursery. A nursemaid, --English, ata glance, --arose from her seat in the window and held a cautious fingerto her lips. In the middle of a bed that would have accommodated anentire family, was the sleeping Rosemary--a tiny, rosy-cheeked, yellowhaired atom bounded on four sides by yards of mattress. 

I stood over her timorously and stared. The Countess put one knee uponthe mattress and, leaning far over, kissed a little paw. I blinked, like a confounded booby. 

Then we stole out of the room. 

"Isn't she adorable?" asked the Countess when we were at a safedistance. 

"They all are, " I said grudgingly, "when they're asleep. "

"You are horrid!"

"By the way, " I said sternly, "how does that bedstead happen to be ayard or so lower than any other bed in this entire castle? All therest of them are so high one has to get into them from a chair. "

"Oh, " she said complacently, "it was too high for Blake to manageconveniently, so I had Rudolph saw the legs off short. "

One of my very finest antique bedsteads! But I didn't even groan. 

"You will let me stay on, won't you, Mr. Smart?" she said, when wewere at the fireplace again. "I am really so helpless, you know. "

I offered her everything that the castle afforded in the way of loyaltyand luxury. 

"And we'll have a telephone in the main hall before the end of a week, "I concluded beamingly. 

Her face clouded. "Oh, I'd much rather have it in my hallway, if youdon't mind. You see, I can't very well go downstairs every time I wantto use the 'phone, and it will be a nuisance sending for me when I'mwanted. "

This was rather high-handed, I thought. 

"But if no one knows you're here, it seems to me you're not likely tobe called. "

"You never can tell, " she said mysteriously. 

I promised to put the instrument in her hall, and not to have anextension to my rooms for fear of creating suspicion. Also the electricbell system was to be put in just as she wanted it to be. And a lotof other things that do not seem to come to mind at this moment. 

I left in a daze at half-past three, to send Britton up with all thelate novels and magazines, and a big box of my special cigarettes. 

CHAPTER VI

I DISCUSS MATRIMONY

Poopendyke and I tried to do a little work that evening, but neitherof us seemed quite capable of concentration. We said "I beg pardon"to each other a dozen times or more, following mental lapses, and thengave it up. My ideas failed in consecutiveness, and when I did succeedin hitching two intelligent thoughts together he invariably destroyedthe sequence by compelling me to repeat myself, with the result thatI became irascible. 

We had gone over the events of the day very thoroughly. If anything, he was more alarmed over our predicament than I. He seemed to sensethe danger that attended my decision to shelter and protect thiscool-headed, rather self-centred young woman at the top of my castle. To me, it was something of a lark; to him, a tragedy. He takeseverything seriously, so much so in fact that he gets on my nerves. I wish he were not always looking at things through the little end ofthe telescope. I like a change, and it is a novelty to sometimes seethings through the big end, especially peril. 

"They will yank us all up for aiding and abetting, " he proclaimed, trying to focus his eyes on the shorthand book he was fumbling. 

"You wouldn't have me turn her over to the law, would you?" I demandedcrossly. "Please don't forget that we are Americans. "

"I don't, " said he. "That's what worries me most of all. "

"Well, " said I loftily, "we'll see. "

We were silent for a long time. 

"It must be horribly lonely and spooky away up there where she is, "I said at last, inadvertently betraying my thoughts. He sniffed. 

"Have you a cold?" I demanded, glaring at him. 

"No, " he said gloomily; "a presentiment. "

"Umph!"

Another period of silence. Then: "I wonder if Max--" I stopped short. 

"Yes, sir, " he said, with wonderful divination. "He did. "

"Any message?"

"She sent down word that the new cook is a jewel, but I think she musthave been jesting. I've never cared for a man cook myself. I don'tlike to appear hypercritical, but what did you think of the dinnertonight, sir?"

"I've never tasted better broiled ham in my life, Mr. Poopendyke. "

"Ham! That's it, Mr. Smart. But what I'd like to know is this:" Whatbecame of the grouse you ordered for dinner, sir? I happen to knowthat it was put over the fire at seven--"

"I sent it up to the countess, with our compliments, " said I, peevishly. I think that remark silenced him. At any rate, he got up and left theroom. 

I laid awake half the night morbidly berating the American father whois so afraid of his wife that he lets her bully him into sacrificingtheir joint flesh and blood upon the altar of social ambition. She hadsaid that her father was opposed to the match from the beginning. Thenwhy, in the name of heaven, wasn't he man enough to put a stop to it?Why--But what use is there in applying whys to a man who doesn't knowwhat God meant when He fashioned two sexes? I put him down as neutraland tried my best to forget him. 

But I couldn't forget the daughter of this browbeaten American father. There was something singularly familiar about her exquisite face, aconviction on my part that is easily accounted for. Her portrait, ofcourse, had been published far and wide at the time of the wedding;she must have been pictured from every conceivable angle, withillimitable gowns, hats, veils and parasols, and I certainly could nothave missed seeing her, even with half an eye. But for the life of me, I couldn't connect her with any of the much-talked-of internationalmarriages that came to mind as I lay there going over the meagreassortment I was able to recall. I went to sleep wondering whetherPoopendyke's memory was any better than mine. He is tremendouslyinterested in the financial doings of our country, being the possessorof a flourishing savings' account, and as he also possesses a livelysense of the ridiculous, it was not unreasonable to suspect that hemight remember all the details of this particular transaction in stocksand bonds. 

The next morning I set my labourers to work putting guest-rooms intoshape for the coming of the Hazzards and the four friends who were tobe with them for the week as my guests. They were to arrive on thenext day but one, which gave me ample time to consult a furnituredealer. I would have to buy at least six new beds and everything elsewith which to comfortably equip as many bed-chambers, it being aforegone conclusion that not even the husbands and wives wouldcondescend to "double up" to oblige me. The expensiveness of thisill-timed visit had not occurred to me at the outset. Still there wassome prospect of getting the wholesale price. On one point I wasdetermined; the workmen should not be laid off for a single hour, noteven if my guests went off in a huff. 

At twelve I climbed the tortuous stairs leading to the Countess'sapartments. She opened the door herself in response to my rapping. 

"I neglected to mention yesterday that I am expecting a houseful ofguests in a day or two, " I said, after she had given me a very cordialgreeting. 

"Guests?" she cried in dismay. "Oh, dear! Can't you put them off?"

"I have hopes that they won't be able to stand the workmen bangingaround all day, " I confessed, somewhat guiltily. 

"Women in the party?"

"Two, I believe. Both married and qualified to express opinions. "

"They will be sure to nose me out, " she said ruefully. "Women aredreadful nosers. "

"Don't worry, " I said. "We'll get a lot of new padlocks for the doorsdownstairs and you'll be as safe as can be, if you'll only keep quiet. "

"But I don't see why I should be made to mope here all day and allnight like a sick cat, holding my hand over Rosemary's mouth when shewants to cry, and muzzling poor Jinko so that he--"

"My dear Countess, " I interrupted sternly, "you should not forget thatthese other guests of mine are invited here. "

"But I was here first, " she argued. "It is most annoying. "

"I believe you said yesterday that you are in the habit of having yourown way. " She nodded her head. "Well, I am afraid you'll have to comedown from your high horse--at least temporarily. "

"Oh, I see. You--you mean to be very firm and domineering with me. "

"You must try to see things from my point of--"

"Please don't say that!" she flared. "I'm so tired of hearing thosewords. For the last three years I've been _commanded_ to see things fromsome one else's point of view, and I'm sick of the expression. "

"For heaven's sake, don't put me in the same boat with your husband!"

She regarded me somewhat frigidly for a moment longer, and then a slow, witching smile crept into her eyes. 

"I sha'n't, " she promised, and laughed outright. 

"Do forgive me, Mr. Smart. I am such a piggy thing. I'll try to benice and sensible, and I will be as still as a mouse all the timethey're here. But you must promise to come up every day and give methe gossip. You _can_ steal up, can't you? Surreptitiously?"

"Clandestinely, " I said, gravely. 

"I really ought to warn you once more about getting yourself involved, "she said pointedly. 

"Oh, I'm quite a safe old party, " I assured her. "They couldn't makecapital of me. "

"The grouse was delicious, " she said, deliberately changing the subject. Nice divorcees are always doing that. 

We fell into a discussion of present and future needs; of ways andmeans for keeping my friends utterly in the dark concerning her presencein the abandoned east wing; and of what we were pleased to allude toas "separate maintenance, " employing a phrase that might have beenconsidered distasteful and even banal under ordinary conditions. 

"I've been trying to recall all of the notable marriages we had in NewYork three years ago, " said I, after she had most engagingly reducedme to a state of subjection in the matter of three or four mootquestions that came up for settlement. "You don't seem to fit in withany of the international affairs I can bring to mind. "

"You promised you wouldn't bother about that, Mr. Smart, " she saidseverely. 

"Of course you _were_ married in New York?"

"In a very nice church just off Fifth Avenue, if that will help youany, " she said. "The usual crowd inside the church, and the usual moboutside, all fighting for a glimpse of me in my wedding shroud, andfor a chance to see a real Hungarian nobleman. It really was a verymagnificent wedding, Mr. Smart. " She seemed to be unduly proud of thespectacular sacrifice. 

A knitted brow revealed the obfuscated condition of my brain. I wasthinking very intently, not to say remotely. 

"The whole world talked about it, " she went on dreamily. "We had areal prince for the best man, and two of the ushers couldn't speak aword of English. Don't you remember that the police closed the streetsin the neighbourhood of the church and wouldn't let people spoileverything by going about their business as they were in the habit ofdoing? Some of the shops sold window space to sight-seers, just asthey do at a coronation. "

"I daresay all this should let in light, but it doesn't. "

"Don't you read the newspapers?" she cried impatiently. She actuallyresented my ignorance. 

"Religiously, " I said, stung to revolt. "But I make it a point neverto read the criminal news. "

"Criminal news?" she gasped, a spot of red leaping to her cheek. "Whatdo you mean?"

"It is merely my way of saying that I put marriages of that characterin the category of crime. "

"Oh!" she cried, staring at me with unbelieving eyes. 

"Every time a sweet, lovely American girl is delivered into the handsof a foreign bounder who happens to possess a title that needs fixing, I call the transaction a crime that puts white slavery in a class withthe most trifling misdemeanours. You did not love this pusillanimousCount, nor did he care a hang for you. You were too young in the waysof the world to have any feeling for him, and he was too old to haveany for you. The whole hateful business therefore resolved itself intoa case of give and take--and he took everything. He took you and yourfather's millions and now you are both back where you began. Some onedeliberately committed a crime, and as it wasn't you or the Count, who levied his legitimate toll, --it must have been the person whoplanned the conspiracy. I take it, of course, that the whole affairwas arranged behind your back, so to speak. To make it a perfectlyfashionable and up-to-date delivery it would have been entirely outof place to consult the unsophisticated girl who was thrown in to makethe title good. You were not sold to this bounder. It was the otherway round. By the gods, madam, he was actually paid to take you!"

Her face was quite pale. Her eyes did not leave mine during the longand crazy diatribe, --of which I was already beginning to feel heartilyashamed, --and there was a dark, ominous fire in them that should havewarned me. 

She arose from her chair. It seemed to me she was taller than before. 

"If nothing else came to me out of this transaction, " she said levelly, "at least a certain amount of dignity was acquired. Pray remember thatI am no longer the unsophisticated girl you so graciously describe. I am a woman, Mr. Smart. "

"True, " said I, senselessly dogged; "a woman with the power to thinkfor yourself. That is my point. If the same situation arose at yourpresent age, I fancy you'd be able to select a husband withoutassistance, and I venture to say you wouldn't pick up the firstdissolute nobleman that came your way. No, my dear countess, you werenot to blame. You thought, as your parents did, that marriage with acount would make a real countess of you. What rot! You are a simple, lovable American girl and that's all there ever can be to it. To theend of your days you will be an American. It is not within the powersof a scape-grace count to put you or any other American girl on a planewith the women who are born countesses, or duchesses, or anything ofthe sort. I don't say that you suffer by comparison with these nobleladies. As a matter of fact you are surpassingly finer in every waythan ninety-nine per cent. Of them, --poor things! Marrying an Englishduke doesn't make a genuine duchess out of an American girl, not bya long shot. She merely becomes a figure of speech. Your own experienceshould tell you that. Well, it's the same with all of them. They acquirea title, but not the homage that should go with it. "

We were both standing now. She was still measuring me with somewhatincredulous eyes, rather more tolerant than resentful. 

"Do you expect me to agree with you, Mr. Smart?" she asked. 

"I do, " said I, promptly. "You, of all people, should be able to testifythat my views are absolutely right. "

"They are right, " she said, simply. "Still you are pretty much of abrute to insult me with them. "

"I most sincerely crave your pardon, if it isn't too late, " I cried, abject once more. (I don't know what gets into me once in a while. )

"The safest way, I should say, is for neither of us to express anopinion so long as we are thrown into contact with each other. If youchoose to tell the world what you think of me, all well and good. Butplease don't tell _me_. "

"I can't convince the world what I think of you for the simple reasonthat I'd be speaking at random. I don't know who you are. "

"Oh, you will know some day, " she said, and her shoulders drooped alittle. 

"I've--I've done a most cowardly, despicable thing in hunting you--"

"Please! Please don't say anything more about it. I dare say you'vedone me a lot of good. Perhaps I shall see things a little more clearly. To be perfectly honest with you, I went into this marriage with my youhis queen? You'll find it better than being a countess, believe me. "

"I shall never marry, Mr. Smart, " she said with decision. "Never, neveragain will I get into a mess that is so hard to get out of. I can saythis to you because I've heard you are a bachelor. You can't takeoffence. "

"I fondly hope to die a bachelor, " said I with humility. 

"God bless you!" she cried, bursting into a merry laugh, and I knewthat a truce had been declared for the time being at least. "And nowlet us talk sense. Have you carefully considered the consequences ifyou are found out, Mr. Smart?"

"Found out?"

"If you are caught shielding a fugitive from justice. I couldn't goto sleep for hours last night thinking of what might happen to youif--"

"Nonsense!" I cried, but for the life of me I couldn't help feelingelated. She _had_ a soul above self, after all!

"You see, I am a thief and a robber and a very terrible malefactor, according to the reports Max brings over from the city. The fight forpoor little Rosemary is destined to fill columns and columns in thenewspapers of the two continents for months to come. You, Mr. Smart, may find yourself in the thick of it. If I were in your place, I shouldkeep out of it. "

"While I am not overjoyed by the prospect of being dragged into it, Countess, I certainly refuse to back out at this stage of the game. Moreover, you may rest assured that I shall not turn you out. "

"It occurred to me last night that the safest thing for you to do, Mr. Smart, is to--to get out yourself. "

I stared. She went on hurriedly: "Can't you go away for a month's visitor--"

"Well, upon my soul!" I gasped. "Would you turn me out of my own house?This beats anything I've--"

"I was only thinking of your peace of mind and your--your safety, "she cried unhappily. "Truly, truly I was. "

"Well, I prefer to stay here and do what little I can to shield youand Rosemary, " said I sullenly. 

"I'll not say anything horrid again, Mr. Smart, " she said quite meekly. (I take this occasion to repeat that I've never seen any one in allmy life so pretty as she!) Her moist red lip trembled slightly, likea censured child's. 

At that instant there came a rapping on the door. I startedapprehensively. 

"It is only Max with the coal, " she explained, with obvious relief. "We keep a fire going in the grate all day long. You've no idea howcold it is up here even on the hottest days. Come in!"

Max came near to dropping the scuttle when he saw me. He stood as onepetrified. 

"Don't mind Mr. Smart, Max, " said she serenely. "He won't bite yourhead off. "

The poor clumsy fellow spilled quantities of coal over the hearth whenhe attempted to replenish the fire at her command, and moved withgreater celerity in making his escape from the room than I had everknown him to exercise before. Somehow I began to regain a lost feelingof confidence in myself. The confounded Schmicks, big and little, wereafraid of me, after all. 

"By the way, " she said, after we had lighted our cigarettes, "I amnearly out of these. " I liked the way she held the match for me, andthen flicked it snappily into the centre of a pile of cushions sixfeet from the fireplace. 

I made a mental note of the shortage and then admiringly said that Ididn't see how any man, even a count could help adoring a woman whoheld a cigarette to her lips as she did. 

"Oh, " said she coolly, "his friends were willing worshippers, all ofthem. There wasn't a man among them who failed to make violent loveto me, and with the Count's permission at that. You must not look soshocked. I managed to keep them at a safe distance. My unreasonableattitude toward them used to annoy my husband intensely. "

"Good Lord!"

"Pooh! He didn't care what became of me. There was one particular manwhom he favoured the most. A dreadful man! We quarrelled bitterly whenI declared that either he or I would have to leave the house--forever. I don't mind confessing to you that the man I speak of is your friend, the gentle Count Hohendahl, some time ogre of this castle. "

I shuddered. A feeling of utter loathing for all these unprincipledscoundrels came over me, and I mildly took the name of the Lord invain. 

With an abrupt change of manner, she arose from her chair and beganto pace the floor, distractedly beating her clinched hands against herbosom. Twice I heard her murmur: "Oh, God!"

This startling exposition of feeling gave me a most uncanny shock. Itcame out of a clear sky, so to say, at a moment when I was beginningto regard her as cold-blooded, callous, and utterly without the emotionssupposed to exist in the breast of every high-minded woman. And nowI was witness to the pain she suffered, now I heard her cry out againstthe thing that had hurt her so pitilessly. I turned my head away, vastly moved. Presently she moved over to the window. A covert glancerevealed her standing there, looking not down at the Danube that seemedso far away but up at the blue sky that seemed so near. 

I sat very still and repressed, trying to remember the harsh, unkindthings I had said to her, and berating myself fiercely for all of them. What a stupid, vainglorious ass I was, not to have divined somethingof the inward fight she was making to conquer the emotions that filledher heart unto the bursting point. 

The sound of dry, suppressed sobs came to my ears. It was too much forme. I stealthily quit my position by the mantel-piece and tip-toedtoward the door, bent on leaving her alone. Half-way there I hesitated, stopped and then deliberately returned to the fireplace, where I noisilyshuffled a fresh supply of coals into the grate. It would be heartless, even unmannerly, to leave her without letting her know that I washeartily ashamed of myself and completely in sympathy with her. Wisely, however, I resolved to let her have her cry out. Some one a great dealmore far-seeing than I let the world into a most important secret whenhe advised man to take that course when in doubt. 

For a long while I waited for her to regain control of herself, ratherdreading the apology she would feel called upon to make for her abruptreversion to the first principles of her sex. The sobs ceased entirely. I experienced the sharp joy of relaxation. Her dainty lace handkerchieffound employment. First she would dab it cautiously in one eye, thenthe other, after which she would scrutinise its crumpled surface withmost extraordinary interest. At least a dozen times she repeated thispuzzling operation. What in the world was she looking for? To thisday, that strange, sly peeking on her part remains a mystery to me. 

She turned swiftly upon me and beckoned with her little forefinger. Greatly concerned, I sprang toward her. Was she preparing to swoon?What in heaven's name was I to do if she took it into her pretty headto do such a thing as that? Involuntarily I shot a quick look at herblouse. To my horror it was buttoned down the back. It would be abachelor's luck to--But she was smiling radiantly. Saved!

"Look!" she cried, pointing upward through the window. "Isn't shelovely?"

I stopped short in my tracks and stared at her in blank amazement. What a stupefying creature she was!

She beckoned again, impatiently. I obeyed with alacrity. Obtaining arather clear view of her eyes, I was considerably surprised to findno trace of departed tears. Her cheek was as smooth and creamy whiteas it had been before the deluge. Her eyelids were dry and orderly andher nose had not been blown once to my recollection. Truly, it was amarvellous recovery. I still wonder. 

The cause of her excitement was visible at a glance. A trim nurse-maidstood in the small gallery which circled the top of the turret, justabove and to the right of us. She held in her arms the pink-hooded, pink-coated Rosemary, made snug against the chill winds of her loftyparade ground. Her yellow curls peeped out from beneath the lace ofthe hood, and her round little cheeks were the colour of the peach'sbloom. 

"Now, _isn't_ she lovely?" cried my eager companion. 

"Even a crusty bachelor can see that she is adorable. "

"I am not a crusty bachelor, " I protested indignantly, "and what'smore, I am positive I should like to kiss those red little cheeks, which is saying a great deal for me. I've never voluntarily kissed ababy in my life. "

"I do not approve of the baby-kissing custom, " she said severely. "Itis extremely unhealthy and--middle-class. Still, " seeing my expressionchange, "I sha'n't mind your kissing her once. "

"Thanks, " said I humbly. 

It was plain to be seen that she did not intend to refer to the recentoutburst. Superb exposition of tact!

Catching the nurse's eye, she signalled for her to bring the childdown to us. Rosemary took to me at once. A most embarrassing thinghappened. On seeing me she held out her chubby arms and shouted "da-da!"at the top of her infantile lungs. _That_ had never happened to mebefore. 

I flushed and the Countess shrieked with laughter. It wouldn't havebeen so bad if the nurse had known her place. If there is one thingin this world that I hate with fervour, it is an ill-mannered, poorly-trained servant. A grinning nurse-maid is the worst of all. Imay be super-sensitive and crotchety about such things, but I can seeno excuse for keeping a servant--especially a nurse-maid--who laughsat everything that's said by her superiors, even though the quip maybe no more side-splitting than a two syllabled "da-da. "

"Ha, ha!" I laughed bravely. "She--she evidently thinks I look likethe Count. He is very handsome, you say. "

"Oh, that isn't it, " cried the Countess, taking Rosemary in her armsand directing me to a spot on her rosy cheek. "Kiss right there, Mr. Smart. There! Wasn't it a nice kiss, honey-bunch? If you are a very, very nice little girl the kind gentleman will kiss you on the othercheek some day. She calls every man she meets da-da, " explained theradiant young mother. "She's awfully European in her habits, you see. You need not feel flattered. She calls Conrad and Rudolph and Maxda-da, and this morning in the back window she applied the same handsomecompliment to your Mr. Poopendyke. "

"Oh, " said I, rather more crestfallen than relieved. 

"Would you like to hold her, Mr. Smart? She's such a darling to hold. "

"No--no, thank you, " I cried, backing off. 

"Oh, you will come to it, never fear, " she said gaily, as she restoredRosemary to the nurse's arms. "Won't he, Blake?"

"He will, my lady, " said Blake with conviction. I noticed this timethat Blake's smile wasn't half bad. 

At that instant Jinko, the chow, pushed the door open with his blacknose and strolled imposingly into the room. He proceeded to treat mein the most cavalier fashion by bristling and growling. 

The Countess opened her eyes very wide. 

"Dear me, " she sighed, "you must be very like the Count, after all. Jinko never growls at any one but him. "

 * * * * *

At dinner that evening I asked Poopendyke point blank if he could callto mind a marriage in New York society that might fit the principalsin this puzzling case. 

He hemmed and hawed and appeared to be greatly confused. 

"Really, sir, I--I--really, I--"

"You make it a point to read all of the society news, " I explained;"and you are a great hand for remembering names and faces. Thinkhard. "

"As a matter of fact, Mr. Smart, I _do_ remember this particularmarriage very clearly, " said he, looking down at his plate. 

"You do?" I shouted eagerly. The new footman stared. "Splendid! Tellme, who is she--or was she?"

My secretary looked me steadily in the eye. 

"I'm sorry, sir, but--but I can't do it. I promised her this morningI wouldn't let it be dragged out of me with red hot tongs. "

CHAPTER VII

I RECEIVE VISITORS

She was indeed attended by faithful slaves. 

 * * * * * * * *

The east wing of the castle was as still as a mouse on the day my houseparty arrived. Grim old doors took on new padlocks, keyholes werecarefully stopped up; creaking floors were calked; windows were picketedby uncompromising articles of furniture deployed to keep my ruthlessrefugee from adventuring too close to the danger zone; and adamantineinstructions were served out to all of my vassals. Everything appearedto be in tip-top shape for the experiment in stealth. 

And yet I trembled. My secret seemed to be safely planted, but whatwould the harvest be? I knew I should watch those upper windows withhypnotic zeal, and listen with straining ears for the inevitable squallof a child or the bark of a dog. My brain ran riot with incipientsubterfuges, excuses, apologies and lies with which my position wasto be sustained. 

There would not be a minute during the week to come when I would beperfectly free to call my soul my own, and as for nerves! well, withgood luck they might endure the strain. Popping up in bed out of asound sleep at the slightest disturbance, with ears wide open andnerves tingling, was to be a nightly occupation at uncertain intervals;that was plain to be seen. All day long I would be shivering withanxiety and praying for night to come so that I might lie awake andpray for the sun to rise, and in this way pass the time as quickly aspossible. There would be difficulty in getting my visitors to bedearly, another thing to test my power at conniving. They were bridgeplayers, of course, and as such would be up till all hours of themorning overdoing themselves in the effort to read each other'sthoughts. 

I thanked the Lord that my electric lighting system would not beinstalled until after they had departed. Ordinarily the Lord isn'tthanked when an electric light company fails to perform its work onschedule time, but in this case delay was courted. 

We were all somewhat surprised and not a little disorganised by theappearance of four unexpected servants in the train of my party. Wehadn't counted on anything quite so elaborate. There were two lady'smaids, not on friendly terms with each other; a French valet who hadthe air of one used to being served on a tray outside the servants'quarters; and a German attendant with hands constructed especially forthe purpose of kneading and gouging the innermost muscles of his master, who it appears had to be kneaded and gouged three times a day by amasseur in order to stave off paralysis, locomotor ataxia or somethingequally unwelcome to a high liver. 

We had ample room for all this physical increase, but no beds. Itransferred the problem to Poopendyke. How he solved it I do not know, but from the woe-be-gone expression on his face the morning after thefirst night, and the fact that Britton was unnecessarily rough inshaving me, I gathered that the two of them had slept on a pile ofrugs in the lower hall. 

Elsie Hazzard presented me to her friends and, with lordly generosity, I presented the castle to them. Her husband, Dr. George, thanked mefor saving all their lives and then, feeling a draft, turned up hiscoat collar and informed me that we'd all die if I didn't have thecracks stopped up. He seemed unnecessarily testy about it. 

There was a Russian baron (the man who had to be kneaded) the lastsyllable of whose name was vitch, the first five evading me in aperpetual chase up and down the alphabet. For brevity's sake, I'llcall him Umovitch. The French valet's master was a Viennese gentlemanof twenty-six or eight (I heard), but who looked forty. I found myselfwondering how dear, puritanic, little Elsie Hazzard could have fallenin with two such unamiable wrecks as these fellows appeared to be atfirst sight. 

The Austrian's name was Pless. He was a plain mister. The more I sawof him the first afternoon the more I wondered at George Hazzard'scarelessness. Then there were two very bright and charming Americans, the Billy Smiths. He was connected with the American Embassy at Vienna, and I liked him from the start. You could tell that he was the sortof a chap who is bound to get on in the world by simply looking at hiswife. The man who could win the love and support of such an attractivecreature must of necessity have qualifications to spare. She was verybeautiful and very clever. Somehow the unforgetable resplendency ofmy erstwhile typist (who married the jeweller's clerk) faded into apale, ineffective drab when opposed to the charms of Mrs. Betty BillySmith. (They all called her Betty Billy. )

After luncheon I got Elsie off in a corner and plied her with questionsconcerning her friends. The Billy Smiths were easily accounted for. They belonged to the most exclusive set in New York and Newport. Hehad an incomprehensible lot of money and a taste for the diplomaticservice. Some day he would be an Ambassador. The Baron was in theRussian Embassy and was really a very nice boy. 

"Boy?" I exclaimed. 

"He is not more than thirty, " said she. "You wouldn't call that old. "There was nothing I could say to that and still be a perfect host. Butto you I declare that he wasn't a day under fifty. How blind women canbe! Or is silly the word?

From where we sat the figure of Mr. Pless was plainly visible in theloggia. He was alone, leaning against the low wall and looking downupon the river. He puffed idly at a cigarette. His coal black hairgrew very sleek on his smallish head and his shoulders were ratherhigh, as if pinched upward by a tendency to defy a weak spine. 

"And this Mr. Pless, who is he?"

Elsie was looking at the rakish young man with a pitying expressionin her tender blue eyes. 

"Poor fellow, " she sighed. "He is in great trouble, John. We hopedthat if we got him off here where it is quiet he might be able toforget--Oh, but I am not supposed to tell you a word of the story! Weare all sworn to secrecy. It was only on that condition that heconsented to come with us. "

"Indeed!"

She hesitated, uncomfortably placed between two duties. She owed oneto him and one to me. 

"It is only fair, John, that you should know that Pless is not hisreal name, " she said, lowering her voice. "But, of course, we standsponsor for him, so it is all right. "

"Your word is sufficient, Elsie. "

She seemed to be debating some inward question. The next I knew shemoved a little closer to me. 

"His life is a--a tragedy, " she whispered. "His heart is broken, Ifirmly believe. Oh!"

The Billy Smiths came up. Elsie proceeded to withdraw into herself. 

"We were speaking of Mr. Pless, " said I. "He has a broken heart. "

The newcomers looked hard at poor Elsie. 

"Broken fiddle-sticks, " said Billy Smith, nudging Elsie until she maderoom for him beside her on the long couch. I promptly made room forBetty Billy. 

"We ought to tell John just a little about him, " said Elsie defensively. "It is due him, Billy. "

"But don't tell him the fellow's heart is broken. That's rot. "

"It isn't rot, " said his wife. "Wouldn't your heart be broken?"

He crossed his legs comfortably. 

"Wouldn't it?" repeated Betty Billy. 

"Not if it were as porous as his. You can't break a sponge, my dear. "

"What happened to it?" I inquired, mildly interested. 

"Women, " said Billy impressively. 

"Then it's easily patched, " said I. "Like cures like. "

"You don't understand, John, " said Elsie gravely. "He was married toa beautiful--"

"Now, Elsie, you're telling, " cautioned Betty Billy. 

"Well, " said Elsie doggedly, "I'm determined to tell this much: hisname isn't Pless, his wife got a divorce from him, and now she hastaken their child and run off with it and they can't find--what's thematter?"

My eyes were almost popping from my head. 

"Is--is he a count?" I cried, so loudly that they all said "sh!" andshot apprehensive glances toward the pseudo Mr. Pless. 

"Goodness!" said Elsie in alarm. "Don't shout, John. "

Billy Smith regarded me speculatively. "I dare say Mr. Smart has readall about the affair in the newspapers. They've had nothing else lately. I won't say he is a count, and I won't say he isn't. We're bound bya deep, dark, sinister oath, sealed with blood. "

"I haven't seen anything about it in the papers, " said I, trying torecover my self-possession which had sustained a most tremendous shock. 

"Thank heaven!" cried Elsie devoutly. 

"Do you mean to say you won't tell me his name?" I demanded. 

Elsie eyed me suspiciously. "Why did you ask if he is a count?"

"I have a vague recollection of hearing some one speak of a counthaving trouble with his young American wife, divorce, or something ofthe sort. A very prominent New York girl, if I'm not mistaken. Allvery hazy, however. What is his name?"

"John, " said Mrs. Hazzard firmly, "you must not ask us to tell you. Won't you please understand?"

"The poor fellow is almost distracted. Really, Mr. Smart, we plannedthis little visit here simply in order to--to take him out of himselffor a while. It has been such a tragedy for him. He worshipped thechild. " It was Mrs. Billy who spoke. 

"And the mother made way with him?" I queried, resorting to a suddenlyacquired cunning. 

"It is a girl, " said Elsie in a loud whisper. "The _loveliest_ girl. Themother appeared in Vienna about three weeks or a month ago and--whiff!Off goes the child. Abducted--kidnapped! And the court had granted himthe custody of the child. That's what makes it so terrible. If she iscaught anywhere in Europe--well, I don't know what may happen to her. Itis just such silly acts as this that make American girls the laughingstocks of the whole world. I give you my word I am almost ashamed tohave people point me out and say: 'There goes an American. Pooh!'"

By this time I had myself pretty well in hand. 

"I daresay the mother loved the child, which ought to condone one amongher multitude of sins. I take it, of course, that she was entirely toblame for everything that happened. "

They at once proceeded to tear the poor little mother to shreds, delicately and with finesse, to be sure, but none the less completely. No doubt they meant to be charitable. 

"This is what a silly American nobody gets for trying to be somebodyover here just because her father has a trunkful of millions, " saidElsie, concluding a rather peevish estimate of the conjugal effronterylaid at the door of Mr. Pless's late wife. 

"Or just because one of these spendthrift foreigners has a title forsale, " said Billy Smith sarcastically. 

"He was deeply in love with her when they were married, " said his wife. "I don't believe it was his fault that they didn't get along welltogether. "

"The truth of the matter is, " said Elsie with finality, "she couldn'tlive up to her estate. She was a drag, a stone about his neck. It waslike putting one's waitress at the head of the table and expecting herto make good as a hostess. "

"What was her social standing in New York?" I enquired. 

"Oh, good enough, " said Betty Billy. "She was in the smartest set, ifthat is a recommendation. "

"Then you admit, both of you, that the best of our American girls fallshort of being all that is required over here. In other words, theycan't hold a candle to the Europeans. "

"Not at all, " they both said in a flash. 

"That's the way it sounds to me. "

Elsie seemed repentant. "I suppose we are a little hard on the poorthing. She was very young, you see. "

"What you mean to say, then, is that she wasn't good enough for Mr. Pless and his coterie. "

"No, not just precisely that, " admitted Betty Billy Smith. "She madea bid for him and got him, and my contention is that she should havelived up to the bargain. "

"Wasn't he paid in full?" I asked, with a slight sneer. 

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't he get his money?"

"I am sure I don't see what money has to do with the case, " said Elsie, with dignity. "Mr. Pless is a poor man I've heard. There could nothave been very much of a marriage settlement. "

"A mere million to start with, " remarked Billy Smith ironically. "It'sall gone, my dear Elsie, and I gather that father-in-law locked thetrunk you speak of and hid the key. You don't know women as well asI do, Mr. Smart. Both of these charming ladies professed to adore Mr. Pless's wife up to the time the trial for divorce came up. Now they'vegot their hammers and hat-pins out for her and--"

"That isn't true, Billy Smith, " cried Elsie in a fierce whisper. "Westood by her until she disobeyed the mandate--or whatever you callit--of the court. She did steal the child, and you can't deny it. "

"Poor little kiddie, " said he, and from his tone I gathered that allwas not rosy in the life of the infant in this game of battledore andshuttlecock. 

To my disgust, the three of them refused to enlighten me further asto the history, identity or character of either Mr. Or Mrs. Pless, butof course I knew that I was entertaining under my roof, by the mostextraordinary coincidence, the Count and Countess of Something-or-other, who were at war, and the child they were fighting for with motives ofan entirely opposite nature. 

Right or wrong, my sympathies were with the refugee in the lonely eastwing. I was all the more determined now to shield her as far as it layin my power to do so, and to defend her if the worst were to happen. 

Mr. Pless tossed his cigarette over the railing and sauntered over tojoin us. 

"I suppose you've been discussing the view, " he said as he came up. There was a mean smile on his--yes, it was a rather handsome face--andthe two ladies started guiltily. The attack on his part was particularlydirect when one stops to consider that there wasn't any view to be hadfrom where we were sitting, unless one could call a three-deckedplasterer's scaffolding a view. 

"We've been discussing the recent improvements about the castle, Mr. Pless, " said I with so much directness that I felt Mrs. Billy Smith'sarm stiffen and suspected a general tension of nerves from head tofoot. 

"You shouldn't spoil the place, Mr. Smart, " said he, with a carelessglance about him. 

"Don't ruin the ruins, " added Billy Smith, of the diplomatic corps. 

"What time do we dine?" asked Mr. Pless, with a suppressed yawn. 

"At eight, " said Elsie promptly. 

We were in the habit of dining at seven-thirty, but I was growingaccustomed to the over-riding process, so allowed my dinner hour tobe changed without a word. 

"I think I'll take a nap, " said he. With a languid smile and a littleflaunt of his hand as if dismissing us, he moved languidly off, butstopped after a few steps to say to me: "We'll explore the castleto-morrow, Mr. Smart, if it's just the same to you. " He spoke with avery slight accent and in a peculiarly attractive manner. There wascharm to the man, I was bound to admit. "I know Schloss Rothhoefenvery well. It is an old stamping ground of mine. "

"Indeed, " said I, affecting surprise. 

"I spent a very joyous season here not so many years ago. Hohendahlis a bosom friend. "

When he was quite out of hearing, Billy Smith leaned over and said tome: "He spent his honeymoon here, old man. It was the girls' idea tobring him here to assuage the present with memories of the past. Quitea pretty sentiment, eh?"

"It depends on how he spent it, " I said significantly. Smith grinnedapprovingly. Being a diplomat he sensed my meaning at once. 

"It was a lot of money, " he said. 

At dinner the Russian baron, who examined every particle of food heate with great care and discrimination, evidently looking for poison, embarrassed me in the usual fashion by asking how I write my books, where I get my plots, and all the rest of the questions that havebecome so hatefully unanswerable, ending up by blandly enquiring_what_ I had written. This was made especially humiliating by theprefatory remark that he had lived in Washington for five years andhad read everything that was worth reading. 

If Elsie had been a man I should have kicked her for further confoundingme by mentioning the titles of all my books and saying that he surelymust have read them, as everybody did, thereby supplying him with thechance to triumphantly say that he'd be hanged if he'd ever heard ofany one of them. I shall always console myself with the joyful thoughtthat I couldn't remember his infernal name and would now make it apoint never to do so. 

Mr. Pless openly made love to Elsie and the Baron openly made love toBetty Billy. Being a sort of noncommittal bachelor, I ranged myselfwith the two abandoned husbands and we had quite a reckless time ofit, talking with uninterrupted devilishness about the growth of Americandentistry in European capitals, the way one has his nails manicuredin Germany, the upset price of hot-house strawberries, the relativemerit of French and English bulls, the continued progress of the weatherand sundry other topics of similar piquancy. Elsie invited all of usto a welsh rarebit party she was giving at eleven-thirty, and thenthey got to work at the bridge table, poor George Hazzard cutting inoccasionally. This left Billy Smith and me free to make up a somewhatsomnolent two-some. 

I was eager to steal away to the east wing with the news, but how todispose of Billy without appearing rude was more than I could workout. It was absolutely necessary for the Countess to know that herex-husband was in the castle. I would have to manage in some way tosee her before the evening was over. The least carelessness, thesmallest slip might prove the undoing of both of us. 

I wondered how she would take the dismal news. Would she becomehysterical and go all to pieces? Would the prospect of a week ofpropinquity be too much for her, even though thick walls intervenedto put them into separate worlds? Or, worst of all, would she revealan uncomfortable spirit of bravado, rashly casting discretion to thewinds in order to show him that she was not the timid, beaten cowardhe might suspect her of being? She had once said to me that she loatheda coward. I have always wondered how it felt to be in a "pretty kettleof fish, " or a "pickle, " or any of the synonymous predicaments. NowI knew. Nothing could have been more synchronous than the pluralhowdy-do that confronted me. 

My nervousness must have been outrageously pronounced. Pacing thefloor, looking at one's watch, sighing profoundly, putting one's handsin the pockets and taking them out again almost immediately, lettingquestions go by unanswered, and all such, are actions or conditionsthat usually produce the impression that one is nervous. A discerningobserver seldom fails to note the symptoms. 

Mr. Smith said to me at nine-sixteen (I know it was exactly nine-sixteento the second) with polite conviction in his smile: "You seem to havesomething on your mind, old chap. "

Now no one but a true diplomat recognises the psychological moment forcalling an almost total stranger "old chap. "

"I have, old fellow, " said I, immensely relieved by his perspicuity. "I ought to get off five or six very important letters to--"

He interrupted me with a genial wave of his hand. "Run along and get'em off, " he said. "Don't mind me. I'll look over the magazines. "

Ten minutes later I was sneaking up the interminable stairways in thesepulchral east wing, lighting and relighting a tallow candle withgrim patience at every other landing and luridly berating the draftsthat swept the passages. Mr. Poopendyke stood guard below at thepadlocked doors, holding the keys. He was to await my signal to reopenthem, but he was not to release me under any circumstance if snooperswere abroad. 

My secretary was vastly disturbed by the news I imparted. He was sostartled that he forgot to tell me that he wouldn't spend another nighton a pile of rugs with Britton as a bed-fellow, an omission which gaveBritton the opportunity to anticipate him by _almost_ giving notice thatvery night. (The upshot of it was the hasty acquisition of two brand newiron beds the next day, and the restoration of peace in my domesticrealm. )

Somewhat timorously I knocked at the Countess's door. I realised thatit was a most unseemly hour for calling on a young, beautiful andunprotected lady, but the exigencies of the moment lent moral supportto my invasion. 

After waiting five minutes and then knocking again so loudly that thesound reverberated through the empty halls with a sickening clatter, I heard some one fumbling with the bolts. The door opened an inch OFtwo. 

The Countess's French maid peered out at me. 

"Tell your mistress that I must see her at once. "

"Madame is not at home, m'sieur, " said the young woman. 

"Not at home?" I gasped. "Where is she?"

"Madame has gone to bed. "

"Oh, " I said, blinking. "Then she _is_ at home. Present my complimentsand ask her to get up. Something very exasperating has hap--"

"Madame has request me to inform m'sieur that she knows the Count ishere, and will you be so good as to call to-morrow morning. "

"What! She knows he's here? Who brought the information?"

"The bountiful Max, m'sieur. He bring it with _dejeuner_, again with_diner_, and but now with the hot water, m'sieur. "

"Oh, I see, " said I profoundly. "In that case, I--I sha'n't disturbher. How--er--how did she take it?"

She gave me a severely reproachful look. 

"She took it as usual, m'sieur. In that dreadful little tin tub oldConrad--"

"Good heavens, girl! I mean the news--the news about the Count. "

"Mon dieu! I thought m'sieur refer to--But yes! She take it beautifully. I too mean the news. Madame is not afraid. Has she not the good, bravem'sieur to--what you call it--to shoulder all the worry, no? She isnot alarm. She reads m'sieur's latest book in bed, smoke the cigarette, and she say what the divil do she care. "

"What!"

"Non, non! I, Helene Marie Louise Antoinette, say it for Madame. Pardon!Pardon, m'sieur! It is I who am wicked. "

Very stiffly and ceremoniously I advised caution for the next twelvehours, and saying good night to Helene Marie Louise Antoinette in anunintentionally complimentary whisper, took myself off down the stairs, pursued by an equally subdued _bon soir_ which made me feel like a soft-stepping Lothario. 

Now it may occur to you that any self-respecting gentleman in possessionof a castle and a grain of common sense would have set about to findout the true names of the guests beneath his roof. The task would havebeen a simple one, there is no doubt of that. A peremptory commandwith a rigid alternative would have brought out the truth in a jiffy. 

But it so happens that I rather enjoyed the mystery. The situation wasunique, the comedy most exhilarating. Of course, there was a tragicside to the whole matter, but now that I was in for it, why minimisethe novelty by adopting arbitrary measures? Three minutes of sternconversation with Elsie Hazzard would enlighten me on all the essentialpoints; perhaps half an hour would bring Poopendyke to terms; a halfa day might be required in the brow-beating of the frail Countess. With the Schmicks, there was no hope. But why not allow myself thepleasure of enjoying the romantic feast that had been set before meby the gods of chance? Chance ordered the tangle; let chance unravel it. Somewhat gleefully I decided that it would be good fun to keep myselfin the dark as long as possible!

"Mr. Poopendyke, " said I, after that nervous factotum had let me intomy side of the castle with gratifying stealthiness, "you will obligeme by not mentioning that fair lady's name in my presence. "

"You did not stay very long, sir, " said he in a sad whisper, and forthe life of me I couldn't determine what construction to put upon thesingularly unresponsive remark. 

When I reached the room where my guests were assembled, I found Mr. Pless and the Baron Umovitch engaged in an acrimonious dispute overa question of bridge etiquette. The former had resented a sharpcriticism coming from the latter, and they were waging a verbal battlein what I took to be five or six different tongues, none of whichappeared to bear the slightest relationship to the English language. Suddenly Mr. Pless threw his cards down and left the table, withouta word of apology to the two ladies, who looked more hurt than appalled. 

He said he was going to bed, but I noticed that he took himself offin the direction of the moonlit loggia. We were still discussing hisdefection in subdued tones--with the exception of the irate baron--whenhe re-entered the room. The expression on his face was mocking, evenaccusing. Directing his words to me, he uttered a lazy indictment. 

"Are there real spirits in your castle, Mr. Smart, or have you fleshand blood mediums here who roam about in white night dresses to studythe moods of the moon from the dizziest ramparts?"

I started. What indiscretion had the Countess been up to?

"I don't quite understand you, Mr. Pless, " I said, with a politelyblank stare. 

Confound his insolence! He winked at me!

CHAPTER VIII

I RESORT TO DIPLOMACY

"My dear Countess, " said I, the next morning, "while I am willing toadmit that all you say is true, there still remains the unhappy factthat you were very near to upsetting everything last night. Mr. Plesssaw you quite plainly. The moon was very full, you'll remember. Fortunately he was too far away from your window to recognise you. Thinkhow easy it might--"

"But I've told you twice that I held my hand over Pinko's nose and hejust couldn't bark, Mr. Smart. You are really most unreasonable aboutit. The dog had to have a breath of fresh air. "

"Why not send him up to the top of the tower and let him run aroundon the--"

"Oh, there's no use talking about it any longer, " she said wearily. "It is all over and no real harm was done. I am awfully sorry if theymade it uncomfortable for you. It is just like him to suggestsomething--well, scandalous. And the rest of them are dreadful teases, especially Mrs. Smith. They love anything risque. But you haven't toldme what they said that kept you awake all night. "

My dignity was worth beholding. 

"It was not what they said to me, Countess, but what they left unsaid. I sha'n't tell you what they said. "

"I think I can make a pretty good guess--"

"Well, you needn't!" I cried hastily, but too late. She would out withit. 

"They accuse you of being a sad, sad dog, a foxy; bachelor, and a devilof a fellow. They all profess to be very much shocked, but they assureyou that it's all right, --not to mind them. They didn't think you hadit in you, and they're glad to see you behaving like a scamp. Oh, Iknow them!"

As a matter of fact, she was pretty near to being right. "All the morereason for you to be cautious and circumspect, " said I boldly. "Praythink of my position, if not your own. "

She gave me a queer little look and then smiled brightly. (She _is_lovely!)

"I'll promise to be good, " she said. 

"I only ask you to be careful, " said I, blunderingly. She laughedaloud: her merriest, most distracting gurgle. 

"And now will you be good enough to tell me who I am?" she asked, aftera few minutes. "That is, who am I supposed to be?"

"Oh, " said I uneasily, "you are really nobody. You are Britton's wife. "

"What! Does Britton know it?"

"Yes, " said I, with a wry smile. "He took a mean advantage of me inthe presence of George Hazzard not an hour ago, and asked for a raisein wages on account of his wife's illness. It seems that you are aninvalid. "

"I hope he hasn't forgotten the baby in his calculations. "

"He hasn't, you may be sure. He has named the baby after me. "

"How original!"

"I thought it rather clever to change Rosemary's sex for a few days, "said I. "Moreover, it will be necessary for Britton to take Max's placeas your personal servant. He will fetch your meals and--"

"Oh, I can't agree to that, Mr. Smart, " she cried with decision. "Imust have Max. He is--"

"But Britton must have some sort of a pretext for--"

"Nonsense! No one cares about Britton and his sick wife. Let wellenough alone. "

"I--I'll think it over, Countess, " said I weakly. 

"And now tell me all about--Mr. Pless. How is he looking? Does heappear to be unhappy? "There was a curious note in her voice, as ofanxiety or eagerness, it was hard to tell which. In any case, I foundmyself inwardly resenting her interest in the sneering Hungarian. (Ihad discovered that he was not an Austrian. ) There was a queer sinkingsensation in the region of my heart, and a slight chill. Could it bepossible that she--But no! It was preposterous!

"He appears to be somewhat sentimental and preoccupied. He gazes atthe moon and bites his nails. "

"I--I wish I could have a peep at him some time without being--"

"For heaven's sake, don't even consider such a thing, " I cried inalarm. 

"Just a little peek, Mr. Smart, " she pleaded. 

"No!" said I firmly. 

"Very well, " she said resignedly, fixing me with hurt eyes. "I'm sorryto be such a bother to you. "

"I believe you'll go back to him, after all, " I said angrily. "Womenare all alike. They--"

"Just because I want to see how unhappy he is, and enjoy myself alittle, you say horrid things to me, " she cried, almost pathetically. "You treat me very badly. "

"There is a great deal at stake, " said I. "The peril is--well, it'senormous. I am having the devil's own time heading off a scheme they'vegot for exploring the entire castle. Your hus--your ex-husband sayshe knows of a secret door opening into this part of the--"

She sprang to her feet with a sharp cry of alarm. 

"Heavens! I--I forgot about _that!_ There is a secret panel and--heavensave us!--it opens directly into my bedroom!" Her eyes were very wideand full of consternation. She gripped my arm. "Come! Be quick! We mustpile something heavy against it, or nail it up, or--do something. "

She fairly dragged me out into the corridor, and then, picking up herdainty skirts, pattered down the rickety stairs at so swift a pacethat I had some difficulty in keeping her pink figure in sight. Whyis it that a woman can go downstairs so much faster than a man? I'venever been able to explain it. She didn't stumble once, or miss a step, while I did all manner of clumsy things, and once came near to pitchingheadlong to the bottom. We went down and down and round and round soendlessly that I was not only gasping but reeling. 

At last we came to the broad hall at the top of the main staircase. Almost directly in front of us loomed the great padlocked doors leadingto the other wing. Passing them like the wind she led the way to thefarthermost end of the hall. Light from the big, paneless windowsoverlooking the river, came streaming into the vast corridor, and Icould see doors ahead to the right and the left of us. 

"Your bedroom?" I managed to gasp, uttering a belated question thatshould have been asked five or six flights higher up at a time whenI was better qualified to voice it. "What the dickens is it doing downhere?"

She did not reply, but, turning to the left, threw open a door anddisappeared into the room beyond. I followed ruthlessly, but stoppedjust over the threshold to catch my breath in astonishment. 

I was in "my lady's bed-chamber. "

The immense Gothic bed stood on its dais, imposing in its isolation. Three or four very modern innovation trunks loomed like minarets againstthe opposite walls, half-open; one's imagination might have been excusedif it conjured up sentries who stood ready to pop out of the trunksto scare one half to death. Some of my most precious rugs adorned thefloor, but the windows were absolutely undraped. There were a few oldchairs scattered about, but no other article of furniture except animprovised wash-stand, and a clumsy, portable tin bath-tub which leanednonchalantly against the foot of the bed. There were great mirrors, in the wall at one end of the room, cracked and scaly it is true, butcapable of reflecting one's presence. 

"Don't stand there gaping, " she cried in a shrill whisper, startingacross the room only to turn aside with a sharp exclamation. "Thatstupid Helene!" she cried, flushing warmly. Catching up a heap oftumbled garments, mostly white, from a chair, she recklessly hurledthem behind the bed. "This is the mirror--the middle one. It opens bymeans of a spring. There is a small hole in the wall behind it andthen there is still another secret door beyond that, a thick iron onewith the sixth Baron Rothhoefen's portrait on the outer side of it. The canvas swings open. We must--"

I was beginning to get my bearings. 

"The sixth baron? Old Ludwig the Red?"

"The very one. "

"Then, by Jove, he is in my study! You don't mean to say--"

"Please don't stop to talk, " she cried impatiently, looking about ina distracted manner, "but for goodness sake get something to put againstthis mirror. "

My mind worked rapidly. The only object in the room heavy enough toserve as a barricade was the bed, and it was too heavy for me to move, I feared. I suggested it, of course, involuntarily lowering my voiceto a conspiratorial whisper. 

"Pull it over, quick!" she commanded promptly. 

"Perhaps I'd better run out and get Max and Ru--"

"If my hus--if Mr. Pless should open that secret door from the otherside, Mr. Smart, it will be very embarrassing for you and me, let--"

I put my shoulder to the huge creaky bed and shoved. There were nocastors. It did not budge. The Countess assisted me by putting thetips of her small fingers against one end of it and pushing. It wasnot what one would call a frantic effort on her part, but it servedto make me exert myself to the utmost. I, a big strong man, couldn'tafford to have a slim countess pushing a bedstead about while I wasthere to do it for her. 

"Don't do that, " I protested. "I can manage it alone, thank you. "

I secured a strong grip on the bottom of the thing and heaved manfully. 

"You might let me help, " she cried, firmly grasping a side piece withboth hands. 

The bed moved. The veins stood out on my neck and temples. My facemust have been quite purple, and it is a hue that I detest. When I wasa very small laddie my mother put me forward to be admired in purplevelveteen. The horror of it still lingers. 

By means of great straining I got the heavy bed over against the mirror, upsetting the tin bathtub with a crash that under ordinary circumstanceswould have made my heart stand still but now only tripled its pumpingactivities. One of the legs was hopelessly splintered in the drop fromthe raised platform. 

"There, " she said, standing off to survey our joint achievement, "we'vestopped it up very nicely. " She brushed the tips of her fingersdaintily. "This afternoon you may fetch up a hammer and some nails andfasten the mirror permanently. Then you can move the bed back to itsproper place. Goodness! What a narrow squeak!"

"Madam, " said I, my hand on my heart but not through gallantry, "thatbed stays where it is. Not all the king's horses nor all the king'smen can put it back again. "

"Was it so heavy, Mr. Smart?"

I swallowed very hard. A prophetic crick already had planted itselfin my back. "Will you forgive me if I submit that you sleep quite adistance from home?" I remarked with justifiable irony. "Why the deucedon't you stay on the upper floors?"

"Because I am mortally afraid, " she said, with a little shudder. "You'veno idea how lonely, how spooky it is up there at the dead hour ofnight. I couldn't sleep. After the third night I had my things moveddown here, where I could at least feel that there were strong menwithin--you might say arm's length of me. I'm--I'm shockingly timid. "

She smiled; a wavering, pleading little smile that conquered. 

"Of course, I don't mind, Countess, " I hastened to say. "Only I thoughtit would be cosier up there with Rosemary and the two maids forcompany. "

She leaned a little closer to me. "We all sleep down here, " she saidconfidentially. "We bring Rosemary's little mattress down every nightand put it in the bathtub. It is a very good fit and makes quite anice cradle for her. Helene and Blake sleep just across the hall andwe leave the doors wide open. So, you see, we're not one bit afraid. "

I sat down on the edge of the bed and laughed. 

"This is delicious, " I cried, not without compunction for I was lookingdirectly into her eager, wistful eyes. A shadow crossed them. "I begyour pardon. I--I can't help laughing. "

"Pray do not stop laughing on my account, " she said icily. "I am usedto being laughed at since I left America. They laugh at all of us overhere. "

"I dare say they laugh at me, confound them, " said I, lugubriously. 

"They do, " said she flatly. Before I could quite recover from thissentient dig, she was ordering me to put the bathtub where it belonged. This task completed, I looked up. She was standing near the head ofthe bed, with a revolver in her hand. I stared. "I keep it under mypillow, Mr. Smart, " she said nervously. I said nothing, and she replacedit under the pillow, handling the deadly weapon as gingerly as if itwere the frailest glass. "Of course I couldn't hit anything with it, and I know I should scream when it went off, but still--accidents willhappen, you know. "

"Urn!" said I, judicially. "And so my study is just beyond this mirror, eh? May I enquire how you happen to know that I have my study there?"

"Oh, I peeked in the other day, " she said, serene once more. 

"The deuce you did!"

"I was quite sure that you were out, " she explained. "I opened Ludwigthe Red an inch or two, that's all. You are quite cosy in there, aren'tyou? I envy you the grand old _chaise longe_. "

I wavered, but succeeded in subduing the impulse. "It is the onlycomfortable piece of furniture I have left in my apartments, " said I, with convincing candour. 

"You poor man, " she said, with her rarest smile. "How fortunate youare that I did not remember the chaise longe. You would have beendeprived of it, I am quite sure. Of course I couldn't think of robbingyou of it now. "

"As a matter of fact, I never lie in it, " I said, submitting to a onceconquered impulse. "If you'd really like to have it, I'll see that itis taken up to your rooms at once. "

"Thank you, " she said, shaking her head. "It's kind of you, but I amnot so selfish as all that, believe me. "

"It is--quite in the way, Countess. "

"Some one would be sure to miss it if you sent it up now, " she saidreflectively. 

"We'll wait till they're all gone, " said I. 

She smiled and the bargain was settled without a word from her. You'veheard of men being wrapped about little fingers, haven't you? Well, there you are. We returned to the corridor. She closed the door softly, a mockery in view of the clatter I had made in shifting the bed andits impediments. 

"We can't be too careful, " she said in a whisper. She might have spokenthrough a megaphone and still been quite safe. We were tramping up thestairs. "Don't you think your guests will consider you ratherinhospitable if you stay away from them all morning?"

I stopped short. "By Jove, now that you remind me of it, I promisedto take them all out for a spin in the motor boat before luncheon. Hazzard has had his boat sent down, "

She looked positively unhappy. "Oh, how I should love to get out fora spin on the river! I wonder if I'll ever be free to enjoy the thingsI like most of--"

"Listen!" I whispered suddenly, grasping her arm. "Did you hearfootsteps in the--Sh!"

Some one was walking over the stone floor in the lower hall, briskstrides that rang out quite clearly as they drew nearer. 

"It is--it is Mr. Pless, " she whispered in a panic. "I recognise histread. As if I could ever forget it! Oh, how I hate him! He--"

"Don't stop here to tell me about it, " I cut in sharply. "Make haste!Get up to your rooms and lock yourself in. I'll--I'll stop him. Howthe deuce did he get into this side of the--"

"Through the dungeons. There is a passage, " she, whispered, and thenshe was gone, flying noiselessly up the narrow stairway. 

Assuming a nonchalance I certainly did not feel, I descended the stairs. We met in the broad hallway below. Mr. Pless approached slowly, evidently having checked his speed on hearing my footsteps on thestairs. 

"Hello, " I said agreeably. "How did you get in?"

He surveyed me coolly. "I know the castle from top to bottom, Mr. Smart. To be perfectly frank with you, I tried the secret panel inyour study but found the opposite door blocked. You have no objection, I trust, to my looking over the castle? It is like home to me. "

My plan was to detain him in conversation until she had time to secreteherself on the upper floor. Somehow I anticipated the banging of adoor, and it came a moment later--not loud but very convicting, justthe same. He glanced at me curiously. 

"Then how _did_ you get in?" I repeated, cringing perceptibly inresponse to the slam of the distant door. 

"By the same means, I daresay, that you employ, " said he. 

For a moment I was confounded. Then my wits came to the rescue. 

"I see. Through the dungeon. You _do_ know the castle well, Mr. Pless. "

"It is a cobwebby, unlovely passage, " said he, brushing the dirt andcobwebs from his trousers. My own appearance was conspicuouslyimmaculate, but I brushed in unison, just the same. 

"Grewsome, " said I. 

He was regarding me with a curious smile in his eyes, a pleasantlybantering smile that had but one meaning. Casting an eye upwards, heallowed his smile to spread. 

"Perhaps you'd rather I didn't disturb Mrs. -- Mrs. --"

"Britton, " said I. "My valet's wife. I don't believe you will disturbher. She's on the top floor, I think. "

He still smiled. "A little remote from Britton, isn't she?"

I think I glared. What right had he to meddle in Britton's affairs?

"I am afraid your fancy draws a rather long bow, Mr. Pless, " said I, coldly. 

He was at once apologetic. "If I offend, Mr. Smart, pray forgive me. You are quite justified in rebuking me. Shall we return to our ownladies?"

Nothing could have been more adroit than the way he accused me in thatconcluding sentence. It was the quintessence of irony. 

"I'd like to have your opinion as to the best way of restoring orrepairing those mural paintings in the dome of the east hall, " I said, detaining him. It was necessary for me to have a good excuse forrummaging about in the unused part of the castle. "It seems too badto let those wonderful paintings go to ruin. They are hanging down insome places, and are badly cracked in others. I've been worrying aboutthem ever since I came into possession. For instance, that Murillo inthe centre. It must be preserved. "

He gave me another queer look, and I congratulated myself on the successof my strategy. 

He took it all in. The mocking light died out in his eyes, and he atonce became intensely interested in my heaven-sent project. For fifteenor twenty minutes we discussed the dilapidated frescoes and he gaveme the soundest sort of advice, based on a knowledge and experiencethat surprised me more than a little. He was thoroughly up in mattersof art. His own chateau near Buda Pesth, he informed me, had onlyrecently undergone complete restoration in every particular. A greatdeal of money had been required, but the expenditures had been justifiedby the results. 

Paintings like these had been restored to their original glory, andso on and so forth. He offered to give me the address of the men inMunich who had performed such wonders for him, and suggested rathertimidly that he might be of considerable assistance to me in outlininga system of improvements. I could not help being impressed. His mannerwas most agreeable. When he smiled without malice, his dark eyes werevery boyish. One could then forget the hard lines of dissipation inhis face, and the domineering, discontented expression which gave tohim the aspect of a far greater age than he had yet attained. A noteof eager enthusiasm in his voice proved beyond cavil that if this sprigof nobility had had half a chance in the beginning he might have beennobler than he was to-day. But underneath the fascinating charm ofmanner, back of the old world courtliness, there lurked the everdominant signs of intolerance, selfishness and--even cruelty. He wasmean to the core. He had never heard of the milk of human kindness, much less tasted of it. 

There was no getting away from the fact that he despised me for noother reason than that I was an American. I could not help feeling thederision in which he held not only me but the Hazzards and the Smithsas well. He looked upon all of us as coming from an inferior race, tobe tolerated only as passers-by and by no means worthy of his augustconsideration. We were not of his world and never could be. 

Ignoble to him, indeed, must have been the wife who came with thevulgar though welcome dollars and an ambition to be his equal and thesharer of his heaven-born glory! He could not even pity her!

While he was discoursing so amiably upon the subjects he knew so wellby means of an inherited intelligence that came down throughgenerations, I allowed my thoughts to drift upstairs to that frightened, hunted little fellow-countrywoman of mine, as intolerant, as vainperhaps as he after a fashion, and cursed the infernal custom thatlays our pride so low. Infinitely nobler than he and yet an object ofscorn to him and all his people, great and small; a discreditedinterloper who could not deceive the lowliest menial in her ownhousehold into regarding her as anything but an imitation. Herloveliness counted for naught. Her wit, her charm, her purity of heartcounted for even less than that. She was a thing that had been barteredfor and could be cast aside without loss--a pawn. And she had committedthe inconceivable sin of rebelling against the laws of commerce: shehad defaulted! They would not forgive her for that. 

My heart warmed toward her. She had been afraid of the dark! I canforgive a great deal in a person who is afraid of the dark. 

I looked at my watch. Assuming a careless manner, I remarked:

"I am afraid we shall be late for the start. Are you going out withus in the boat or would you prefer to browse about a little longer?Will you excuse me? I must be off. "

His cynical smile returned. "I shall forego the pleasure of browsingin another man's pasture, if you don't mind. "

It was almost a direct accusation. He did not believe a word of theBritton story. I suddenly found myself wondering if he suspected thetruth. Had he, by any chance, traced the fugitive countess to my doors?Were his spies hot upon the trail? Or had she betrayed herself byindiscreet acts during the past twenty-four hours? The latter was notunlikely; I knew her whims and her faults by this time. In either case, I had come to feel decidedly uncomfortable, so much so, in fact, thatI was content to let the innuendo pass without a retort. It behoovedme to keep my temper as well as my wits. 

"Come along, " said I, starting off in the direction of the lowerregions. He followed. I manoeuvred with such success that ultimatelyhe took the lead. I hadn't the remotest idea how to get to theconfounded dungeons!

It never rains but it pours. Just as we were descending the last flightof stairs before coming to the winding stone steps that led far downinto the earth, who but Britton should come blithely up from theposterior regions devoted to servants and their ilk. He was carryinga long pasteboard box. I said something impressive under my breath. Britton, on seeing us, stopped short in his tracks. He put the boxbehind his back and gazed at me forlornly. 

"Ah, Britton, " said I, recovering myself most creditably; "going upto see little John Bellamy, I suppose. "

I managed to shoot a covert look at Mr. Pless. He was gazing at thehalf-hidden box with a perfectly impassive face, and yet I knew thatthere was a smile about him somewhere. 

The miserable box contained roses, I knew, because I had ordered themfor Rosemary. 

"Yes, sir, " said my valet, quite rigid with uncertainty, "in a way, sir. " A bright look flashed into his face. "I'm taking up the wash, Mr. Smart. From the laundry over in the town, sir. It is somethinkdreadful the way they mangle things, sir. Especially lady's garments. Thank you, sir. "

He stood aside to let us pass, the box pinned between him and the wall. Never in my life have I known roses with a more pungent and penetratingodour! Britton seemed to fairly reek with it. 

"I like the perfumes the women are using nowadays, " said Mr. Plessaffably, as we felt our way down the steps. 

"Attar of roses, " said I, sniffing. 

"Umph!" said he. 

It was quite dark and very damp in the underground passages. I had thecurious sensation of lizards wriggling all about me in the sinistershadows. Then and there I resolved that the doors of this pestilentialprison should be locked and double locked and never opened again, whileI was master of the place. 

Moreover, old man Schmick was down for a bad half-hour with me. Howcame these doors to be unlocked when the whole place was supposed tobe as tight as a drum? If nothing else sufficed, the two prodigiousSchmicks would be required to stand guard, day and night, with bludgeonsif needs be. I intended to keep snooping busybodies out of that sideof the castle if I had to nail up every door in the place, even at therisk of starving those whom I would defend. 

Especially was I firm in my resolve to keep the meddling ex-husbandin his proper place. Granted that he suspected me of a secret amour, what right had he to concern himself about it? None whatever. I wasnot the first baron to hold a fair prisoner within these powerfulwalls, and I meant to stand upon my dignity and my rights, as everyman should who--But, great heaven, what an imbecile view to take ofthe matter! Truly my brain was playing silly tricks for me as I stumbledthrough the murky corridors. I had my imagination in a pretty fairstate of subjection by the time we emerged from the dungeons and startedup the steps. Facts were facts, and I would have to stick to them. That is why I bethought myself to utter this sage observation:

"Britton is a faithful, obliging fellow, Mr. Pless. It isn't everyEnglishman who will gracefully submit to being chucked out ofcomfortable quarters to make room for others. We're a bit crowded, youknow. He gave up his room like a gentleman and moved over temporarilyinto the other wing. He was afraid, don't you see, that the baby mightdisturb my guests. A very thoughtful, dependable fellow. "

"Yes, " said he, "a very dependable fellow, Mr. Smart. My own man ismuch the same sort of a chap. He also is married. " Did I imagine thathe chuckled?

Half an hour later when I rejoined my guests after a session withConrad Schmick, I was somewhat annoyed by the dig George Hazzard plantedin my devoted ribs, and the furtive wink he gave me. The two ladieswere regarding me with expressions that seemed pretty well dividedbetween disapproval and mirth. The baron, whose amicable relationswith Mr. Pless evidently had been restored, was grinning broadly at me. 

And the Countess imperiously had directed me to supply her with allthe scandal of the hour!

CHAPTER IX

I AM INVITED OUT TO DINNER

I sometimes wonder what would happen if I really had a mind of my own. Would I be content to exercise it capably? Would I cease to be puttyin the hands of other people? I doubt it. Even a strong, obdurate mindis liable to connect with conditions that render it weak and pliablefor the simple reason that it is sometimes easier to put up with athing than to try to put it down. An exacting, arbitrary mind perhapsmight evolve a set of resolutions that even the most intolerant wouldhesitate to violate, but for an easygoing, trouble-dodging brain likemy own there is no such thing as tenacity of purpose, unless it be inthe direction of an obfuscated tendency to maintain its own pitifulequilibrium. I try to keep an even ballast in my dome of thought andto steer straight through the sea of circumstance, a very difficultundertaking and sometimes hazardous. 

A man with a firm, resolute grip on himself would have checked Mr. Pless and Baron Umovitch at the outset of their campaign to acquireundisputed possession of _all_ the comforts and conveniences that thecastle afforded. 

He would have said no to their demands that all work about the placeshould be regulated according to their own life-long habits, which, among other things, included lying in bed till noon, going back to bedat three for a quiet nap, and staying up all night so that they mightbe adequately worn out by the time they went to bed in the first place. 

I mention this as a single instance of their power to over-ride me. It got to be so that when a carpenter wanted to drive a nail he hadto substitute a screw and use a screw-driver, a noiseless process butan insufferable waste of time and money. Lathers worked four days ona job that should have been accomplished in as many hours. Can youimagine these expert, able-bodied men putting laths on a wall withscrew-drivers?

When Elsie Hazzard, painfully aware of my annoyance, asked the twonoblemen why on earth they couldn't get up for breakfast, they coldlyinformed her that they were civilised human beings and not larks. 

They used my study for purposes of their own, and glared at me whenI presumed to intrude upon their privacy. Mr. Pless took possessionof this room, and here received all sorts of secret operatives engagedin the task of unearthing the former Mrs. Pless. Here he had as manyas fifteen reports a day by messenger from all parts of the land andhere he discussed every new feature of the chase as it presented itself, coolly barring me out of my sanctum sanctorum with the impassive commandto knock before attempting to enter. 

In spite of their acrimonious tilts over the card table, he and thebaron were as thick as could be when it came to the question of thederelict countess. They maintained the strictest privacy and resentedeven the polite interest of their four American friends. 

Finding Mr. Poopendyke at work over some typing one day, Mr. Plessperemptorily ordered him out of the study and subsequently complainedto me about the infernal racket the fellow made with his typewriter. Just as I was on the point of telling him to go to the devil, hesmilingly called my attention to a complete plan for the restorationof the two great halls as he had worked it out on paper. He had alsowritten a personal letter, commanding the Munich firm to send theirmost competent expert to Schloss Rothhoefen without delay, to go overthe plans with him. As I recall it, he merely referred to me as a richAmerican who needed advice. 

They cursed my servants, drank my wines, complained of the food, andhad everybody about the place doing errands for them. My butler andfootman threatened to leave if they were compelled to continue to servedrinks until four in the morning; but were somewhat appeased when Iraised their wages. Britton surreptitiously thrashed the French valet, and then had to serve Mr. Pless (to my despair) for two days whileFrancois took his time recovering. 

The motor boat was operated as a ferry after the third day, hustlingdetectives, lawyers, messengers and newspaper correspondents back andforth across the much be-sung Danube. Time and again I shivered in myboots when these sly-faced detectives appeared and made their reportsbehind closed doors. When would they strike the trail?

To my surprise the Hazzards and the Smiths were as much in the darkas I concerning development in the great kidnapping case. The wily Mr. Pless suddenly ceased delivering his confidences to outsiders. Evidentlyhe had been cautioned by those in charge of his affairs. He became asuncommunicative as the Sphinx. 

I had the somewhat valueless satisfaction of knowing a blessed sightmore about the matter than he and all of his bloodhounds put together. I could well afford to laugh, but under the extremely harassingconditions it was far from possible for me to get fat. As a matter offact, it seemed to me that I was growing thinner. Mrs. Betty BillySmith, toward the end of her visit, dolefully--almost tearfully--remarked upon my haggard appearance. She was very nice about it, too. I liked her immensely. 

It did not require half an eye to see that she was thoroughly sick ofthe baron and Mr. Pless. She was really quite uncivil to them towardthe end. 

At last there came a day of deliverance. The guests were departing andI can truthfully say that I was speeding them. 

Elsie Hazzard took me off to a remote corner, where a little later onBetty Billy and the two husbands found us. 

"John, will you ever forgive me?" she said very soberly. "I swear toyou I hadn't the faintest idea what it--"

"Please, please, Elsie, " I broke in warmly; "don't abuse yourself inmy presence. I fully understand everything. At least, _nearly_everything. What I can't understand, for the life of me, is this: howdid you happen to pick up two such consummate bounders as these fellowsare?"

"Alas, John, " said she, shaking her head, "a woman never knows muchabout a man until she has lived a week in the same house with him. Now_you_ are a perfect angel. "

"You've always said that, " said I. "You did not have to live in thesame house with me to find it out, did you?"

She ignored the question. "I shall never, never forgive myself forthis awful week, John. We've talked it all over among ourselves. Weare ashamed--oh, so terribly ashamed. If you can ever like us againafter--"

"Like you!" I cried, taking her by the shoulders. "Why, Elsie Hazzard, I have never liked you and George half so much as I like you now. Youtwo and the Smiths stand out like Gibraltars in my esteem. I adore allof you. I sha'n't be happy again until I know that you four--and nomore--are coming back to Schloss Rothhoefen for an indefinite stay. Good Lord, how happy we shall be!"

I said it with a great deal of feeling. The tears rushed into her eyes. 

"You _are_ a dear, John, " she sighed. 

"You'll come?"

"In a minute, " said she with vehemence, a genuine American girl oncemore. 

"Just as soon as these pesky workmen are out of the place, I'll dropyou a line, " said I, immeasurably exalted. "But I draw the line atnoblemen. "

"Don't worry, " she said, setting her nice little white teeth. "I drawit too. Never again! _Never_! "

It occurred to me that here was an excellent opening for a bit ofmissionary work. Very pointedly I said to her: "I fancy you are willingto admit now that she wasn't such a simpleton for leaving him. "

She went so far as to shudder, all the time regarding me with dilatedeyes. "I can't imagine anything more dreadful than being that man'swife, John. "

"Then why won't you admit that you are sorry for her? Why won't yoube a little just to her?"

She looked at me sharply. "Do you know her?"

"Not by a long shot, " I replied hastily, and with considerabletruthfulness. 

"Why are you so keen to have me take sides with her?"

"Because I did, the instant I saw that infernal cad. "

She pursed her lips. It was hard for her to surrender. 

"Out with it, Elsie, " I commanded. "You know you've been wrong aboutthat poor little girl. I can tell by the look in your eyes that youhave switched over completely in the last four days, and so has BettyBilly. "

"I can't forgive her for marrying him in the first place, " she saidstubbornly. "But I think she was justified in leaving him. As I knowhim now, I don't see how she endured it as long as she did. Yes, I amsorry for her. She is a dear girl and she has had a--a--"

"I'll say it, my dear: a hell of a time. "

"Thank you. " "And I daresay you now think she did right in taking thechild, too, " I persisted. 

"I--I hope she gets safely away with little Rosemary, back to God'scountry as we are prone to call it. Oh, by the way, John, I don't seewhy I should feel bound to keep that wretch's secret any longer. Hehas treated us like dogs. He doesn't deserve--"

"Hold on! You're not thinking of telling me his name, are you?"

"Don't you want to know it? Don't you care to hear that you've beenentertaining the most talked of, the most interesting--"

"No, I don't!"

"Don't you care to hear who it was that he married and how many millionshe got from--"

"No, I don't. "

"And why not?"

"Well, " said I, judicially, "in the first place I like the mystery ofit all. In the second place, I don't want to know anything more aboutthis fellow than I already know. He is enough of a horror to me, asit is, God knows, without giving a name to him. I prefer to think ofhim as Mr. Pless. If you don't mind, Elsie, I'll try to eradicate himthoroughly from my system as Pless before I take him on in any otherform of evil. No, I don't want to know his name at present, nor do Icare a hang who it was he married. Silly notion, I suppose, but I meanwhat I say. "

She looked at me in wonder for a moment and then shook her head as ifconsidering me quite hopeless. "You are an odd thing, John. God leftsomething out when He fashioned you. I'm just dying to tell you allabout them, and you won't let me. "

"Is she pretty?" I asked, yielding a little. 

"She is lovely. We've been really quite hateful about her, Betty andI. Down in our hearts we like her. She was a spoiled child, of course, and all that sort of thing, but heaven knows she's been prettythoroughly made over in a new crucible. We used to feel terribly sorryfor her, even while we were deriding her for the fool she had made ofherself in marrying him. I've seen her hundreds of times driving aboutalone in Vienna, where they spent two winters, a really pathetic figure, scorned not only by her husband but by every one else. He never wasto be seen in public with her. He made it clear to his world that shewas not to be inflicted upon it by any unnecessary act of his. Shecame to see Betty and me occasionally; always bright and proud andfull of spirit, but we could see the wounds in her poor little heartno matter how hard she tried to hide them. I tell you, John, they likeus as women but they despise us as wives. It will always be the samewith them. They won't let us into their charmed circle. Thank God, Iam married to an American. He _must_ respect me whether he wants to ornot. "

"Poor little beggar, " said I, without thinking of how it would soundto her; "she has had her fling, and she has paid well for it. "

"If her stingy old father, who permitted her to get into the scrape, would come up like a man and pay what he ought to pay, there would beno more pother about this business. He hasn't lived up to his bargain. The--Mr. Pless has squandered the first million and now he wants thebalance due him. A trade's a trade, John. The old man ought to pay up. He went into it with his eyes open, and I haven't an atom of sympathyfor him. You have read that book of Mrs. O'Burnett's, haven't you?--'TheShuttle'? Well, there you are. This is but another example of whatfools American parents can be when they get bees in their bonnets. "

She seemed to be accusing me!

"I hope she gets away safely with the kiddie, " said I, non-committally. 

"Heaven knows where she is. Maybe she's as safe as a bug in a rug. "

"I shouldn't be surprised, " said I. 

The Billy Smiths and George Hazzard came up at this juncture. Elsieat once proceeded to go into a long series of conjectures as to theprobable whereabouts of Mr. Pless's former wife and their child. I wasimmensely gratified to find that they were now undivided in theirestimate of Mr. Pless and firmly allied on the side of the missingcountess. 

I gathered from their remarks that the young woman's mother and brotherswere still in Paris, where their every movement was being watched bysecret agents. They were awaiting the arrival from New York of thefather of the countess, after which they were to come to Vienna forthe purpose of making a determined fight for the daughter's absolutefreedom and the custody of the child. 

Somehow this news gave me a strange feeling of apprehension, a sensationthat later on was to be amply justified. 

I daresay an historian less punctilious about the truth than I proposeto be, would, at this stage of the narrative, insert a whopping liefor the sake of effect, or "action, " or "heart interest, " as suchthings are called in the present world of letters. He would enlivenhis tale by making Mr. Pless do something sensational while he wasabout it, such as yanking his erstwhile companion out of her place ofhiding by the hair of her head, or kicking down all the barricadesabout the place, or fighting a duel with me, or--well, there is no endof things he might do for the sake of a "situation. " But I am a personof veracity and the truth _is_ in me. Mr. Pless did none of theseinteresting things, so why should I say that he did?

He went away with the others at half-past eleven, and that was the endof his first visit to my domain. For fear that you, kind reader, maybe disappointed, I make haste to assure you that he was to come again. 

Of course there was more or less turmoil and--I might saydisaffection--attending his departure. He raised Cain with my servantsbecause they did this and that when they shouldn't have done either;he (and the amiable baron) took me to task for having neglected tobook compartments for them in the Orient Express; he insisted uponhaving a luncheon put up in a tea basket and taken to the railwaystation by Britton, and he saw to it personally that three or fourbottles of my best wine were neatly packed in with the rest. He_said_ three or four, but Britton is firm in his belief that therewas nearer a dozen, judging by the weight. 

He also contrived to have Mr. Poopendyke purchase first-class railwaytickets for him and the baron, and then forgot to settle for them. Itamounted to something like four hundred and fifty kronen, if I remembercorrectly. He took away eleven hundred and sixty-five dollars of mymoney, besides, genially acquired at roulette, and I dread to thinkof what he and the baron took out of my four friends at auction bridge. 

I will say this for him: he was the smartest aristocrat I've everknown. 

Need I add that the Hazzards and the Smiths travelled second-class?

"Well, thank the Lord!" said I, as the ferry put off with the party, leaving me alone on the little landing. The rotten timbers seemed toecho the sentiment. At the top of the steep all the Schmicks weresaying it, too; in the butler's pantry it was also being said; a scoreof workmen were grunting it; and the windlass that drew me up the hillwas screaming it in wild, discordant glee. I repeated it once morewhen Britton returned from town and assured me that they had not missedthe train. 

"That's what I'd like to say, sir, " said he. 

"Well, say it, " said I. And he said it so vociferously that I know itmust have been heard in the remotest corners of heaven. 

The merry song of the hammer and the sweet rasp of the saw greeted mydelighted ear as I entered the castle. Men were singing and whistlingfor all they were worth; the air was full of music. It was not unlikethe grand transformation scene in the pantomime when all that has beengloom and despondency gives way in the flash of an eye to elysiansplendour and dazzling gaiety. 'Pon my soul, I never felt so exuberantin all my life. The once nerve-racking clangour was like the soothingstrains of an invisible orchestra to my delighted senses. Ha! Ha! Whata merry old world it is, after all!

Nearing my study, I heard an almost forgotten noise: the blithe, incessant crackle of a typewriting machine. Never have I heard onerattle so rapidly or with such utter garrulousness. 

I looked in at the door. Over in his corner by the window Poopendykewas at work, his lanky figure hunched over the key-board, his headenveloped in clouds from a busy pipe, for all the world like a tugboatsmothering in its own low-lying smoke. Sheets of paper were strewnabout the floor. Even as I stood there hesitating, he came to the endof a sheet and jerked it out of the machine with such a resoundingsnap that the noise startled me. He was having the time of his life!

I stole away, unwilling to break in upon this joyful orgy. 

Conrad, grinning from ear to ear, was waiting for me outside my bedroomdoor late in the day. He saluted me with unusual cordiality. 

"A note, mein herr, " said he, and handed me a dainty little pearl-greyenvelope. He waited while I read the missive. 

"I sha'n't be home for dinner, Conrad, " said I, my eyes aglow. "TellHawkes, will you?"

He bowed and scraped himself away; somehow he seemed to have grownyounger by decades. It was in the air to be young and care-free. Iread the note again and felt almost boyish. Then I went up to my room, got out my gayest raiment without shame or compunction, dressed withespecial regard for lively effects, and hied me forth to carry sunshineinto the uttermost recesses of my castle. 

The Countess welcomed me with a radiant smile. We shook hands. 

"Well, he has gone, " said I, drawing a deep breath. 

"Thank the Lord, " said she, and then I knew that the symphony wascomplete. We all had sung it. 

It must not be supposed for an instant that I had been guilty ofneglecting my lovely charge during that season of travail and despair. No, indeed! I had visited her every day as a matter of precaution. Sherequired a certain amount of watching. 

I do not hesitate to say at this time that she seemed to be growinglovelier every day. In a hundred little ways she was changing, notonly in appearance but in manner. 

Now, to be perfectly frank about it, I can't explain just what theselittle changes were--that is, not in so many words--but they were quiteas pronounced as they were subtle. I may risk mentioning an improvementin her method of handling me. She was not taking quite so much forgranted as she did at first. She was much more humble and considerate, I remarked; instead of bullying me into things she now cajoled me;instead of making demands upon my patience and generosity, she ratherhesitated about putting me to the least trouble. She wasn't so arrogant, nor so hard to manage. In a nutshell, I may say with some satisfaction, she was beginning to show a surprising amount of respect for me andmy opinions. Where once she had done as she pleased, she now did soonly after asking my advice and permission, both of which I gave freelyas a gentleman should. Fundamentally she was all right. It was onlyin a superficial sort of way that she fell short of being ideal. Shereally possessed a very sweet, lovely nature. I thought I could seethe making of a very fine woman in her. 

I do not say that she was perfect or ever could be, but she might comevery close to it if she went on improving as she did every day. As amatter of fact, I found an immense amount of analytical pleasure instudying the changes that attended the metamorphosis. It seemed to myeager imagination that she was being translated before my eyes;developing into a serious, sensible, unselfish person with a soulpreparing to mount higher than self. Her voice seemed to be softer, sweeter; the satirical note had disappeared almost entirely, and withit went the forced raillery that had been so pronounced at the beginningof our acquaintance. 

Her devotion to Rosemary was wonderful to see. By the way, while Ithink of it, the child was quite adorable. She was learning to pronouncemy name, and getting nearer and nearer to it every day. At the timeof which I now write she was calling me (with great enthusiasm), bythe name of "Go-go, " which, reduced to aboriginal American, means"Man-with-the-Strong-Arm-Who-Carries-Baby. "

"It is very nice of you to ask me up to dine with you, " said I. 

"Isn't it about time I was doing something for you in return for allthat you have done for me? "she inquired gaily. "We are having aparticularly nice dinner this evening, and I thought you'd enjoy achange. "

"A change?" said I, with a laugh. "As if we haven't been eating outof the same kettle for days!"

"I was not referring to the food, " she said, and I was very properlysquelched. 

"Nevertheless, speaking of food, " said I, "it may interest you to knowthat I expected to have rather a sumptuous repast of my own to celebratethe deliverance. A fine plump pheasant, prepared a la Oscar, cornfritters like mother used to make, potatoes picard, --"

"And a wonderful alligator pear salad, " she interrupted, her eyesdancing. 

I stared. "How in the world did you guess?"

She laughed in pure delight, and I began to understand. By the LordHarry, the amazing creature was inviting me to eat my own dinner inher _salle manger!_ "Well, may I be hanged! You do beat the Dutch!"

She was wearing a wonderful dinner gown of Irish lace, and she fairlysparkled with diamonds. There was no ornament in her brown hair, however, nor were her little pink ears made hideous by ear-rings. Herface was a jewel sufficient unto itself. I had never seen her in anevening gown before. The effect was really quite ravishing. As I lookedat her standing there by the big oak table, I couldn't help thinkingthat the Count was not only a scoundrel but all kinds of a fool. 

"It was necessary for me to bribe all of your servants, Mr. Smart, "she said. 

"You did not offer the rascals money, I hope, " I said in a horrifiedtone. 

"No, indeed!" She did not explain any farther than that, but somehowI knew that money isn't everything to a servant after all. "I hope youdon't mind my borrowing your butler and footman for the evening, " shewent on. "Not that we really need two to serve two, but it seems somuch more like a function, as the newspapers would call it. "

It was my turn to say "No, indeed. "

"And now you must come in and kiss Rosemary good night, " she said, glancing at my great Amsterdam clock in the corner. 

We went into the nursery. It was past Rosemary's bedtime by nearly anhour and the youngster was having great difficulty in keeping awake. She managed to put her arms around my neck when I took her up from thebed, all tucked away in her warm little nightie, and sleepily presentedher own little throat for me to kiss, that particular spot being wherethe honey came from in her dispensation of sweets. 

I was full of exuberance. An irresistible impulse to do a jig seizedupon me. To my own intense amazement, and to Blake's horror, I beganto dance about the room like a clumsy kangaroo. Rosemary shriekeddelightedly into my ear and I danced the harder for that. The Countess, recovering from her surprise, cried out in laughter and began to claptime with her hands. Blake forgot herself and sat down rather heavilyon the edge of the bed. I think the poor woman's knees gave way underher. 

"Hurrah!" I shouted to Rosemary, but looking directly at the Countess. "We're celebrating!"

Whereupon the girl that was left in the Countess rose to the occasionand she pirouetted with graceful abandon before me, in amazing contrastto my jumping-jack efforts. Only Blake's reserved and somewhat dampeningadmonition brought me to my senses. 

"Please don't drop the child, Mr. Smart, " she said. I had the greatsatisfaction of hearing Rosemary cry when I delivered her up to Blakeand started to slink out of the room in the wake of my warm-cheekedhostess. "You would be a wonderful father, sir, " said Blake, relentinga little. 

I had the grace to say, "Oh, pshaw!" and then got out while the illusionwas still alive. (As I've said before, I do not like a crying baby. )

It was the most wonderful dinner in the world, notwithstanding it wasserved on a kitchen table moved into the living room for the occasion. Imposing candelabra adorned the four corners of the table and the verybest plate in the castle was put to use. There were roses in the centreof the board, a huge bowl of short-stemmed Marechal Niel beauties. TheCountess's chair was pulled out by my stately butler, Hawkes; mine bythe almost equally imposing footman, and we faced each other acrossthe bowl of roses and lifted an American cocktail to the health ofthose who were about to sit down to the feast. I think it was one ofthe best cocktails I've ever tasted. The Countess admitted having madeit herself, but wasn't quite sure whether she used the right ingredientsor the correct proportions. She asked me what I thought of it. 

"It is the best Manhattan I've ever tasted, " said I, warmly. 

Her eyes wavered. Also, I think, her faith in me. "It was meant to bea Martini, " she said sorrowfully. 

Then we both sat down. Was it possible that the corners of Hawkes'mouth twitched? I don't suppose I shall ever know. 

My sherry was much better than I thought, too. It was deliciously oily. The champagne? But that came later, so why anticipate a joy withrealisation staring one in the face?

We began with a marvellous hors-d'oeuvres. Then a clear soup, a fishaspec, a--Why rhapsodise? Let it be sufficient if I say that indiscussing the Aladdin-like feast I secretly and faithfully promisedmy chef a material increase in wages. I had never suspected him ofbeing such a genius, nor myself of being such a Pantegruelian disciple. I must mention the alligator pear salad. For three weeks I had beentrying to buy alligator pears in the town hard by. These came fromParis. The chef had spoken to me about them that morning, asking mewhen I had ordered them. Inasmuch as I had not ordered them at all, I couldn't satisfy his curiosity. My first thought was that ElsieHazzard, remembering my fondness for the vegetable--it is a vegetable, isn't it?--had sent off for them in order to surprise me. It seems, however, that Elsie had nothing whatever to do with it. The Countesshad ordered them for me through her mother, who was in Paris at thetime. Also she had ordered a quantity of Parisian strawberries of thehot-house, one-franc-apiece variety, and a basket of peaches. At therisk of being called penurious, I confess that I was immensely relievedwhen I learned that these precious jewels in the shape of fruit hadbeen paid for in advance by the opulent mother of the Countess. 

"Have I told you, Mr. Smart, that I am expecting my mother here tovisit me week after next?"

She tactfully put the question to me at a time when I was so full ofcontentment that nothing could have depressed me. I must confess, however, that I was guilty of gulping my champagne a little noisily. The question came with the salad course. 

"You don't say so!" I exclaimed, quite cheerfully. 

"That is to say, she is coming if you think you can manage it quitesafely. "

"I manage it? My dear Countess, why speak of managing a thing that isso obviously to be desired?"

"You don't understand. Can you smuggle her into the castle without anyone knowing a thing about it? You see, she is being watched everyminute of the time by detectives, spies, secret agents, lawyers, andHeaven knows who else. The instant she leaves Paris, bang! It will belike the starter's shot in a race. They will be after her like a streak. And if you are not very, very clever they will play hob witheverything. "

"Then why run the risk?" I ventured. 

"My two brothers are coming with her, " she said reassuringly. "Theyare such big, strong fellows that--"

"My dear Countess, it isn't strength we'll need, " I deplored. 

"No, no, I quite understand. It is cunning, strategy, caution, and allthat sort of thing. But I will let you know in ample time, so that youmay be prepared. "

"Do!" I said gallantly, trying to be enthusiastic. 

"You are so wonderfully ingenious at working out plots and conspiraciesin your books, Mr. Smart, that I am confident you can manage everythingbeautifully. "

Blatchford was removing my salad plate. A spasm of alarm came over me. I had quite forgotten the two men. The look of warning I gave herbrought forth a merry, amused smile. 

"Don't hesitate to speak before Blatchford and Hawkes, " she said, tomy astonishment. "They are to be trusted implicitly. Isn't it true, Hawkes?"

"It is, Madam, " said he. 

"Do you mean to say, Countess, that--"

"It has all been quite satisfactorily attended to through Mr. Poopendyke, " she said. "He consulted me before definitely engaging anyone, Mr. Smart, and I referred him to my lawyers in Vienna. I do hopeHawkes and Blatchford and Henri, the chef, are quite satisfactory toyou. They were recently employed by some one in the British embassyat--"

"Pray rest easy, Countess, " I managed to say, interrupting out ofconsideration for Hawkes and Blatchford, who, I thought, might feeluncomfortable at hearing themselves discussed so impersonally. "Everything is most satisfactory. I did not realise that I had you tothank for my present mental and gastronomical comfort. You havesurrounded me with diadems. "

Hawkes and Blatchford very gravely and in unison said: "Thank you, sir. "

"And now let us talk about something else, " she said complacently, asif the project of getting the rest of her family into the castle werealready off her mind. "I can't tell you how much I enjoyed your lastbook, Mr. Smart. It is so exciting. Why do you call it 'The Fairestof the Fair'?"

"Because my publisher insisted on substituting that title for the oneI had chosen myself. I'll admit that it doesn't fit the story, my dearCountess, but what is an author to do when his publisher announcesthat he has a beautiful head of a girl he wants to put on the coverand that the title must fit the cover, so to speak?"

"But I don't consider it a beautiful head, Mr. Smart. A very flashyblonde with all the earmarks of having posed in the chorus between thedays when she posed for your artist. And your heroine has very darkhair in the book. Why did they make her a blonde on the cover?"

"Because they didn't happen to have anything but blonde pictures instock, " said I, cheerfully. "A little thing like that doesn't matter, when it comes to literature, my dear Countess. It isn't the hair thatcounts. It's the hat. "

"But I should think it would confuse the reader, " she insisted. "Thelast picture in the book has her with inky black hair, while in allthe others she is quite blonde. "

"A really intelligent reader doesn't have to be told that the artistchanged his model before he got to the last picture, " said I, and Iam quite confident she didn't hear me grate my teeth. 

"But the critics must have noticed the error and commented upon it. "

"My dear Countess, the critics never see the last picture in a book. They are much too clever for that. "

She pondered. "I suppose they must get horribly sick of all the booksthey have to read. "

"And they never have a chance to experience the delicious period ofconvalescence that persons with less chronic afflictions have to lookforward to, " said I, very gently. "They go from one disease to another, poor chaps. "

"I once knew an author at Newport who said he hated every critic onearth, " she said. 

"I should think he might, " said I, without hesitation. It was not untilthe next afternoon that she got the full significance of the remark. 

As I never encourage any one who seeks to discuss my stories with me, being a modest chap with a flaw in my vanity, she abandoned the subjectafter a few ineffectual attempts to find out how I get my plots, howI write my books, and how I keep from losing my mind. 

"Would you be entertained by a real mystery?" she asked, leaning towardme with a gleam of excitement in her eyes. Very promptly I said Ishould be. We were having our coffee. Hawkes and Blatchford had leftthe room. "Well, tradition says that one of the old barons buried avast treasure in the cellar of this--"

"Stop!" I commanded, shaking my head. "Haven't I just said that I don'twant to talk about literature? Buried treasure is the very worst formof literature. "

"Very well, " she said indignantly. "You will be sorry when you hearI've dug it up and made off with it. "

I pricked up my ears. This made a difference. "Are you going to huntfor it yourself?"

"I am, " she said resolutely. 

"In those dark, dank, grewsome cellars?"

"Certainly. "

"Alone?"

"If necessary, " she said, looking at me over the edge of the coffeecup. 

"Tell me all about it, " said I. 

"Oh, we sha'n't find it, of course, " said she calmly. I made note ofthe pronoun. "They've been searching for it for two centuries withoutsuccess. My--that is, Mr. Pless has spent days down there. He is veryhard-up, you know. It would come in very handy for him. "

I glowered. "I'm glad he's gone. I don't like the idea of his lookingfor treasures in my castle. "

She gave me a smile for that. 

CHAPTER X

I AGEEE TO MEET THE ENEMY

That night I dreamed of going down, down, down into the bowels of theearth after buried treasure, and finding at the end of my hours oftravel the countess's mother sitting in bleak splendour on a chest ofgold with her feet drawn up and surrounded by an audience of spiders. 

For an hour or more after leaving the enchanted rooms near the roof, I lounged in my study, persistently attentive to the portrait of Ludwigthe Red, with my ears straining for sounds from the other side of thesecret panels. Alas! those panels were many cubits thick and as staunchas the sides of a battleship. But there was a vast satisfaction inknowing that she was there, asleep perhaps, with her brown head pillowedclose to the wall but little more than an arm's length from the crimsonwaistcoat of Ludwig the Red, --for he sat rather low like a Chinese godand supported his waistcoat with his knees. A gross, forbidding chapwas he! The story was told of him that he could quaff a flagon of aleat a single gulp. Looking at his portrait, one could not help thinkingwhat a pitifully infinitesimal thing a flagon of ale is after all. 

Morning came and with it a sullen determination to get down to workon my long neglected novel. I went down to breakfast. Everything aboutthe place looked bleak and dreary and as grey as a granite tombstone. Hawkes, who but twelve hours before had seemed the embodiment of lifein its most resilient form, now appeared as a drab nemesis with woodenlegs and a frozen leer. My coffee was bitter, the peaches were likesponges, the bacon and rolls of uniform sogginess and the eggs of astrange liverish hue. I sat there alone, gloomy and depressed, contrasting the hateful sunshine with the soft, witching refulgenceof twenty-four candles and the light that lies in a woman's eyes. 

"A fine morning, sir, " said Hawkes in a voice that seemed to come fromthe grave. It was the first time I had ever heard him speak sodolorously of the morning. Ordinarily he was a pleasant voiced fellow. 

"Is it?" said I, and my voice sounded gloomier than his. I was notsure of it, but it seemed to me that he made a movement with his handas if about to put it to his lips. Seeing that I was regarding himrather fixedly, he allowed it to remain suspended a little above hiship, quite on a line with the other one. His elbows were crooked atthe proper angle I noticed, so I must have been doing him an injustice. He couldn't have had anything disrespectful in mind. 

"Send Mr. Poopendyke to me, Hawkes, immediately after I've finishedmy breakfast. "

"Very good, sir. Oh, I beg pardon, sir. I am forgetting, Mr. Poopendykeis out. He asked me to tell you he wouldn't return before eleven. "

"Out? What business has he to be out?"

"Well, sir, I mean to say, he's not precisely out, and he isn't justwhat one would call in. He is up in the--ahem!--the east wing, sir, taking down some correspondence for the--for the lady, sir. "

I arose to the occasion. "Quite so, quite so. I had forgotten theappointment. "

"Yes, sir, I thought you had. "

"Ahem! I daresay Britton will do quite as well. Tell him to--"

"Britton, sir, has gone over to the city for the newspapers. You forgetthat he goes every morning as soon as he has had his--"

"Yes, yes! Certainly, " I said hastily. "The papers. Ha, ha! Quiteright. "

It was news to me, but it wouldn't do to let him know it. The countessread the papers, I did not. I steadfastly persisted in ignoring theParis edition of the _New York Herald_ for fear that the delightfulmystery might disintegrate, so to speak, before my eyes, or become thecommonplace scandal that all the world was enjoying. As it stood now, I had it all to myself--that is to say, the mystery. Mr. Poopendykereads aloud the baseball scores to me, and nothing else. 

It was nearly twelve when my secretary reported to me on this particularmorning, and he seemed a trifle hazy as to the results of the games. After he had mumbled something about rain or wet grounds, I coldlyenquired:

"Mr. Poopendyke, are you employed by me or by that woman upstairs?"I would never have spoken of her as "that woman, " believe me, if I hadnot been in a state of irritation. 

He looked positively stunned. "Sir?" he gasped. 

I did not repeat the question, but managed to demand rather fiercely:"Are you?"

"The countess had got dreadfully behind with her work, sir, and Ithought you wouldn't mind if I helped her out a bit, " he explainednervously. 

"Work? What work?"

"Her diary, sir. She is keeping a diary. "

"Indeed!"

"It is very interesting, Mr. Smart. Rather beats any novel I've readlately. We--we've brought it. Quite up to date. I wrote at least threepages about the dinner last night. If I am to believe what she putsinto her diary, it must have been a delightful occasion, as thenewspapers would say. "

I was somewhat mollified. "What did she have to say about it, Fred?"I asked. It always pleased him to be called Fred. 

"That would be betraying a confidence, " said he. "I will say this much, however: I think I wrote your name fifty times or more in connectionwith it. "

"Rubbish!" said I. 

"Not at all!" said he, with agreeable spirit. 

A sudden chill came over me. "She isn't figuring on having it published, is she?"

"I can't say as to that, " was his disquieting reply. "It wasn't anyof my business, so I didn't ask. "

"Oh, " said I, "I see. "

"I think it is safe to assume, however, that it is not meant forpublication, " said he. "It strikes me as being a bit too personal. There are parts of it that I don't believe she'd dare to put intoprint, although she reeled them off to me without so much as a blush. 'Pon my soul, Mr. Smart, I never was so embarrassed in my life. She--"

"Never mind, " I interrupted hastily. "Don't tell tales out of school. "

He was silent for a moment, fingering his big eyeglasses nervously. "It may please you to know that she thinks you are an exceedingly niceman. "

"No, it doesn't!" I roared irascibly. "I'm damned if I like beingcalled an exceedingly nice man. "

"They were my words, sir, not hers, " he explained desperately. "I wasmerely putting two and two together--forming an opinion from her mannernot from her words. She is very particular to mention everything youdo for her, and thanks me if I call her attention to anything she mayhave forgotten. She certainly appreciates your kindness to the baby. "

"That is extremely gratifying, " said I acidly. 

He hesitated once more. "Of course, you understand that the divorceitself is absolute. It's only the matter of the child that remainsunsettled. The--"

I fairly barked at him. "What the devil do you mean by that, sir? Whathas the divorce got to do with it?"

"A great deal, I should say, " said he, with the rare, almost superhumanpatience that has made him so valuable to me. 

"Upon my soul!" was all that I could say. 

Hawkes rapped on the door luckily at that instant. 

"The men from the telephone company are here, sir, and the electricians. Where are they to begin, sir?"

"Tell them to wait, " said I. Then I hurried to the top of the eastwing to ask if she had the least objection to an extension 'phone beingplaced in my study. She thought it would be very nice, so I returnedwith instructions for the men to put in three instruments: one in herroom, one in mine, and one in the butler's pantry. It seemed a veryjolly arrangement all 'round. As for the electric bell system, it wouldspeak for itself. 

Toward the middle of the afternoon when Mr. Poopendyke and I were hardat work on my synopsis we were startled by a dull, mysterious poundingon the wall hard by. We paused to listen. It was quite impossible tolocate the sound, which ceased almost immediately. Our first thoughtwas that the telephone men were drilling a hole through the wall intomy study. Then came the sharp rat-a-ta-tat once more. Even as we lookedabout us in bewilderment, the portly facade of Ludwig the Red movedout of alignment with a heart-rending squeak and a long thin streakof black appeared at the inner edge of the frame, growing wider, --and blacker if anything, --before our startled eyes. 

"Are you at home?" inquired a voice that couldn't by any means haveemanated from the chest of Ludwig, even in his mellowest hours. 

I leaped to my feet and started across the room with great strides. My secretary's eyes were glued to the magic portrait. His fingers, looking like claws, hung suspended over the keyboard of the typewriter. 

"By the Lord Harry!" I cried. "Yes!"

The secret door swung quietly open, laying Ludwig's face to the wall, and in the aperture stood my amazing neighbour, as lovely a portraitas you'd see in a year's trip through all the galleries in the world. She was smiling down upon us from the slightly elevated position, acharming figure in the very latest Parisian hat and gown. Somethinggrey and black and exceedingly chic, I remember saying to Poopendykeafterwards in response to a question of his. 

"I am out making afternoon calls, " said she. Her face was flushed withexcitement and self-consciousness. "Will you please put a chair hereso that I may hop down?"

For answer, I reached up a pair of valiant arms. She laughed, leanedforward and placed her hands on my shoulders. My hands found her waistand I lifted her gently, gracefully to the floor. 

"How strong you are!" she said admiringly. "How do you do, Mr. Poopendyke! Dear me! I am not a ghost, sir!"

His fingers dropped to the keyboard. "How do you do, " he jerked out. Then he felt of his heart. "My God! I don't believe it's going. "

Together we inspected the secret doors, going so far as to enter theroom beyond, the Countess peering through after us from my study. Tomy amazement the room was absolutely bare. Bed, trunks, garments, chairs--everything in fact had vanished as if whisked away by anall-powerful genie. 

"What does this mean?" I cried, turning to her. 

"I don't mind sleeping upstairs, now that I have a telephone, " shesaid serenely. "Max and Rudolph moved everything up this afternoon. "

Poopendyke and I returned to the study. I, for one, was bitterlydisappointed. 

"I'm sorry that I had the 'phone put in, " I said. 

"Please don't call it a 'phone!" she objected. "I hate the word 'phone. "

"So do I, " said Poopendyke recklessly. 

I glared at _him_. What right had he to criticise my manner of speech?He started to leave the room, after a perfunctory scramble to put hispapers in order, but she broke off in the middle of a sentence to urgehim to remain. She announced that she was calling on both of us. 

"Please don't stop your work on my account, " she said, and promptlysat down at his typewriter and began pecking at the keys. "You mustteach me how to run a typewriter, Mr. Poopendyke. I shall be as pooras a church mouse before long, and I know father won't help me. I mayhave to become a stenographer. "

He blushed abominably. I don't believe I've ever seen a moreunattractive fellow than Poopendyke. 

"Oh, every cloud has its silver lining, " said he awkwardly. 

"But I am used to gold, " said she. The bell on the machine tinkled. "What do I do now?" He made the shift and the space for her. 

"Go right ahead, " said he. She scrambled the whole alphabet across hisneat sheet but he didn't seem to mind. 

"Isn't it jolly, Mr. Smart? If Mr. Poopendyke should ever leave you, I may be able to take his place as your secretary. "

I bowed very low. "You may be quite sure, Countess, that I shall dismissMr. Poopendyke the instant you apply for his job. "

"And I shall most cheerfully abdicate, " said he. Silly ass!

I couldn't help thinking how infinitely more attractive and perilousshe would be as a typist than the excellent young woman who had marriedthe jeweller's clerk, and what an improvement on Poopendyke!

"I came down to inquire when you would like to go exploring for buriedtreasure, Mr. Smart, " she said, after the cylinder had slipped backwith a bang that almost startled her out of her pretty boots and causedher to give up typewriting then and there, forevermore. 

"Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day, " quoted I glibly. 

She looked herself over. "If you knew how many times this gown had tobe put off till to-morrow, you wouldn't ask me to ruin it the secondtime I've had it on my back. "

"It is an uncommonly attractive gown, " said I. 

"Shall we set to-morrow for the treasure quest?"

"To-morrow is Sunday. "

"Can you think of a better way to kill it?"

"Yes, you might have me down here for an old-fashioned midday dinner. "

"Capital! Why not stay for supper, too?"

"It would be too much like spending a day with relatives, " she said. "We'll go treasure hunting on Monday. I haven't the faintest notionwhere to look, but that shouldn't make any difference. No one elseever had. By the way, Mr. Smart, I have a bone to pick with you. Haveyou seen yesterday's papers? Well, in one of them, there is a longaccount of my--of Mr. Pless's visit to your castle, and a lengthyinterview in which you are quoted as saying that he is one of yourdearest friends and a much maligned man who deserves the sympathy ofevery law-abiding citizen in the land. "

"An abominable lie!" I cried indignantly. Confound the newspapers!"

"Another paper says that your fortune has been placed at his disposalin the fight he is making against the criminally rich Americans. Inthis particular article you are quoted as saying that I am a dreadfulperson and not fit to have the custody of a child. "

"Good Lord!" I gasped helplessly. 

"You also expect to do everything in your power to interest theadministration at Washington in his behalf. "

"Well, of all the--Oh, I say, Countess, you don't believe a word ofall this, do you?"

She regarded me pensively. "You have said some very mean, uncivilthings to me. "

"If I thought you believed--" I began desperately, but her sudden smilerelieved me of the necessity of jumping into the river. "By Jove, Ishall write to these miserable sheets, denying every word they'veprinted. And what's more, I'll bring an action for damages against allof 'em. Why, it is positively atrocious! The whole world will thinkI despise you and--" I stopped very abruptly in great confusion. 

"And--you don't?" she queried, with real seriousness in her voice. "You don't despise me?"

"Certainly _not!_" I cried vehemently. Turning to Poopendyke, I said:"Mr. Poopendyke, will you at once prepare a complete and emphaticdenial of every da--of every word they have printed about me, and I'llsend it to all the American correspondents in Europe. We'll cable itourselves to the United States. I sha'n't rest until I am set straightin the eyes of my fellow-countrymen. The whole world shall know, Countess, that I am for you first, last and all the time. It shallknow--"

"But you don't know who I am, Mr. Smart, " she broke in, her cheeksvery warm and rosy. "How can you publicly espouse the cause of onewhose name you refuse to have mentioned in your presence?"

I dismissed her question with a wave of the hand: "Poopendyke cansupply the name after I have signed the statement. I give him carteblanche. The name has nothing to do with the case, so far as I amconcerned. Write it, Fred, and make it strong. "

She came up to me and held out her hand. "I knew you would do it, " shesaid softly. "Thanks. "

I bent low over the gloved little hand. "Don Quixote was a happygentleman, Countess, with all his idiosyncrasies, and so am I. "

She not only came for dinner with us on Sunday, but made the dressingfor my alligator pear salad. We were besieged by the usual crowd ofSunday sight-seers, who came clamouring at our staunch, reinforcedgates, and anathematised me soundly for refusing admission. Onebourgeoise party of fifteen refused to leave the plaza. Until theirreturn fares on the ferry barge were paid stoutly maintaining thatthey had come over in good faith and wouldn't leave until I hadreimbursed them to the extent of fifty hellers apiece, ferry fare. Isent Britton out with the money. He returned with the rather disquietingnews that he had recognised two of Mr. Pless's secret agents in themob. 

"I wonder if he suspects that I am here, " said the Countess palingperceptibly when I mentioned the presence of the two men. 

"It doesn't matter, " said I. "He can't get into the castle while thegates are locked, and, by Jove, I intend to keep them locked. "

"What a delightful ogre you are, Mr. Smart, " said she. 

Nevertheless, I did not sleep well that night. The presence of the twodetectives outside my gates was not to be taken too lightly. Unquestionably they had got wind of something that aroused suspicionin their minds. I confidently expected them to reappear in the morning, perhaps disguised as workmen. Nor were my fears wholly unjustified. 

Shortly after nine o'clock a sly-faced man in overalls accosted me inthe hall. 

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Smart, " he said in fairly good English, "mayI have a word with you? I have a message from Mr. Pless. " I don'tbelieve he observed the look of concern that flitted across my face. 

"From Mr. Pless?" I inquired, simulating surprise. Then I looked himover so curiously that he laughed in a quiet, simple way. 

"I am an agent of the secret service, " he explained coolly. "YesterdayI failed to gain admission as a visitor, to-day I come as a labourer. We work in a mysterious way, sir. "

"Is it necessary for Mr. Pless to resort to a subterfuge of thischaracter in order to get a message to me?" I demanded indignantly. 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

"It was not necessary yesterday, but it is to-day, " said he. He leanedcloser and lowered his voice. "Our every movement is being watched bythe Countess's detectives. We are obliged to resort to trickery tothrow them off the scent. Mr. Pless has read what you had to say inthe newspapers and he is too grateful, sir, to subject you tounnecessary annoyance at the hands of her agents. Your friendship issacred to him. He realises that it means a great deal to have thesupport of one so powerful with the United States government. If weare to work together, Mr. Smart, in bringing this woman to justice, it must be managed with extreme skill or her family may--"

"What is this you are saying?" I broke in, scarcely able to believemy ears. 

"I speak English so badly, " he apologised. "Perhaps I should do nomore than to give you his message. He would have you to meet himsecretly to-night at the Rempf Hotel across the river. It is mostimportant that you should do so, and that you should exercise greatcaution. I am to take your reply back to him. "

For an instant I was fairly stupefied. Then I experienced a feelingof relief so vast that he must have seen the gleam of triumph in myeyes. The trick was mine, after all. 

"Come into my study, " I said. He followed me upstairs and into theroom. Poopendyke was there. "This is my secretary, you may speak freelybefore him. " Turning to Poopendyke, I said: "You have not sent thatstatement to the newspapers, have you? Well, let it rest for a day ortwo. Mr. Pless has sent a representative to see me. " I scowled at mysecretary, and he had the sense to hide his astonishment. 

The fellow repeated what he had said before, and added a fewinstructions which I was to follow with care if I would do Mr. Plessthe honour to wait upon him that evening at the Rempf Hotel. 

"You may tell Mr. Pless that I shall be there at nine, " said I. Theagent departed. When he was safely out of the room, I explained thesituation to Poopendyke, and then made my way through the secret panelsto the Countess's rooms. 

She was ready for the subterranean journey in quest of treasure, attiredin a neat walking skirt, with her bonny hair encased in a swimming capas a guard against cobwebs. 

"Then you don't intend to send out the statements?" she cried indisappointment. "You are going to let every one think you are hisfriend and not mine?"

I was greatly elated. Her very unreasonableness was a prize that Icould not fail to cherish. 

"Only for the time being, " I said eagerly. "Don't you see the advantagewe gain by fooling him? Why, it is splendid--positively splendid!"

She pouted. "I don't feel at all sure of you now, Mr. Smart, " she said, sitting down rather dejectedly in a chair near the fireplace. "I believeyou are ready to turn against me. You want to be rid of me. I am anuisance, a source of trouble to you. You will tell him that I amhere--"

I stood over her, trying my best to scowl. "You know better than that. You know I--I am as loyal as--as can be. Hang it all, " I burst outimpulsively, "do you suppose for a minute that I want to hand you overto that infernal rascal, now that I've come to--that is to say, nowthat we're such ripping good friends?"

She looked up at me very pathetically at first. Then her expressionchanged swiftly to one of wonder and the most penetrating inquiry. Slowly a flush crept into her cheeks and her eyes wavered. 

"I--I think I can trust you to--to do the right thing by me, " she said, descending to a banality in her confusion. 

I held out my hand. She laid hers in it rather timidly, almost as ifshe was afraid of me. "I shall not fail you, " said I without thefaintest intention to be heroic but immediately conscious of havingused an expression so trite that my cheek flamed with humiliation. 

For some unaccountable reason she arose hastily from the chair andwalked to the window. A similar reason, no doubt, held me rooted rathersafely to the spot on which I stood. I have a vague recollection offeeling dizzy and rather short of breath. My heart was acting queerly. 

"Why do you suppose he wants to see you?" she asked, after a moment, turning toward me again. She was as calm as a summer breeze. All traceof nervousness had left her. 

"I can't even supply a guess. "

"You must be very, very tactful, " she said uneasily. "I know him sowell. He is very cunning. "

"I am accustomed to dealing with villains, " said I. "They always cometo a bad end in my books, and virtue triumphs. "

"But this isn't a book, " she protested. "Besides virtue never triumphsin an international marriage. You must come--to see me to-night afteryou return from town. I won't sleep until I've heard everything. "

"I may be very late, " I said, contriving to hide my eagerness prettywell, I thought. 

"I shall wait for you, Mr. Smart, " she said, very distinctly. I tookit as a command and bowed in submission. "There is no one here togossip, so we may be as careless as we please about appearances. Youwill be hungry, too, when you come in. I shall have a nice supper readyfor you. " She frowned faintly. "You must not, under any circumstance, spoil everything by having supper with _him. _"

"Again I repeat, you may trust me implicitly to do the right thing, "said I beamingly. "And now, what do you say to our trip to the bottomof the castle?"

She shook her head. "Not with the house full of spies, my dear friend. We'll save that for another day. A rainy day perhaps. I feel likehaving all the sunshine I can get to-day. To-night I shall be gloomyand very lonely. I shall take Rosemary and Jinko out upon the top ofthe tower and play all day in the sun. "

I had an idea. "I am sure I should enjoy a little sunshine myself. MayI come too?"

She looked me straight in the eye. There was a touch of dignity in hervoice when she spoke. 

"Not to-day, Mr. Smart. "

A most unfathomable person!

CHAPTER XI

I AM INVITED TO SPEND MONEY

Any one who has travelled in the Valley of the Donau knows the RempfHotel. It is an ancient hostelry, frequented quite as much in thesedays as it was in olden times by people who are by way of knowing theexcellence of its cuisine and the character of its wines. Unless onepossesses this intelligence, either through hearsay or experience, hewill pass by the Rempf without so much as a glance at its ratherforbidding exterior and make for the modern hotel on the platz, therebymissing one of the most interesting spots in this grim old town. Isit to the fashionable Bellevue that the nobility and the elect wendtheir way when they come to town? Not by any means. They affect theRempf, and there you may see them in fat, inglorious plenty smuglyexecrating the plebeian rich of many lands who dismiss Rempf's witha sniff, and enjoying to their heart's content a privacy which theaforesaid rich would not consider at any price. 

You may be quite sure that the rates are low at the historic Rempf, and that they would be much lower if the nobility had anything to sayabout it. One can get a very comfortable room, without bath, at theRempf for a dollar a day, provided he gets in ahead of the nativearistocracy. If he insists on having a room with bath he is guilty of_lese majeste_ and is sent on his way. 

But, bath or no bath, the food is the best in the entire valley andthe cellar without a rival. 

I found Mr. Pless at the Rempf at nine o'clock. He was in his roomwhen I entered the quaint old place and approached the rotund managerwith considerable uncertainty in my manner. For whom was I to inquire?Would he be known there as Pless?

The manager gave me a broad (I was about to say serviceable) smile andput my mind at rest by blandly inquiring if I was the gentleman whowished to see Mr. Pless. He directed me to the top floor of the hoteland I mounted two flights of stairs at the heels of a porter whoexercised native thrift by carrying up a large trunk, thus saving timeand steps after a fashion, although it may be hard to see wherein hereally benefited when I say that after escorting me to a room on thethird floor and knocking at the door while balancing the trunk on hisback, he descended to the second and delivered his burden in triumphto the lady who had been calling for it since six o'clock in theevening. But even at that he displayed considerable cunning in notforgetting what room the luggage belonged in, thereby saving himselfa trip all the way down to the office and back with the trunk. 

Mr. Pless welcomed me with a great deal of warmth. He called me "dearold fellow" and shook hands with me with more heartiness than I hadthought him capable of expressing. His dark, handsome face was aglowwith pleasure. He was quite boyish. A smallish old gentleman was withhim. My introduction to the stranger was a sort of afterthought, itseemed to me. I was informed that he was one of the greatest lawyersand advocates in Vienna and Mr. Pless's personal adviser in the"unfortunate controversy. "

I accepted a cigar. 

"So you knew who I was all the time I was at Schloss Rothhoefen, " saidMr. Pless, smiling amiably. "I was trying to maintain my incognito sothat you might not be distressed, Mr. Smart, by having in your homesuch a notorious character as I am supposed to be. I confess it wasrather shabby in me, but I hold your excellent friends responsible forthe trick. "

"It is rather difficult to keep a secret with women about, " said Ievasively. 

"But never difficult to construct one, " said Mr. Schymansky, winkingrather too broadly. I think Schymansky was the name. 

"By the way, " said I, "I have had no word from our mutual friends. Have you seen them?"

Mr. Pless stiffened. His face grew perceptibly older. 

"I regret to inform you, Mr. Smart, that our relations are not quiteas friendly as they once were. I have reason to suspect that Mr. Smithhas been working against me for the past two or three days, to suchan extent, I may say, that the Ambassador now declines to advise yourgovernment to grant us certain privileges we had hoped to secure withouttrouble. In short, we have just heard that he will not ask the UnitedStates to consider anything in the shape of an extradition if theCountess is apprehended in her own country. Up to yesterday we feltconfident that he would advise your State Department to turn the childover to our representatives in case she is to be found there. Therehas been underhand work going on, and Mr. Smith is at the bottom ofit. He wantonly insulted me the day we left Rothhoefen. I havechallenged him, but he--he committed the most diabolical breach ofetiquette by threatening to kick my friend the Baron out of his roomswhen he waited upon him yesterday morning. "

With difficulty I restrained a desire to shout the single word: "Good!"I was proud of Billy Smith. Controlling my exultation, I merely said:"Perfectly diabolical! Perfectly!"

"I have no doubt, however, should our Minister make a formal demandupon your Secretary of State, the cause of justice would be sustained. It is a clear case of abduction, as you so forcibly declare in theinterviews, Mr. Smart. I cannot adequately express my gratificationfor the stand you have taken. Will you be offended if I add that itwas rather unexpected? I had the feeling that you were against me, that you did not like me. "

I smiled deprecatingly. "As I seldom read the newspapers, I am notquite sure that they have done justice to my real feelings in thematter. "

The lawyer sitting directly opposite to me, was watching my faceintently. "They quoted you rather freely, sir, " said he. InstinctivelyI felt that here was a wily person whom it would be difficult todeceive. "The Count is to be congratulated upon having the good willof so distinguished a gentleman as John Bellamy Smart. It will carrygreat weight, believe me. "

"Oh, you will find to your sorrow that I cut a very small figure innational politics, " said I. "Pray do not deceive yourselves. "

"May I offer you a brandy and soda?" asked Mr. Pless, tapping sharplyon the table top with his seal ring. Instantly his French valet, stillbearing faint traces of the drubbing he had sustained at Britton'shands, appeared in the bedchamber door. 

"Thank you, no, " I made haste to say. "I am on the water wagon. "

"I beg your pardon, " said Mr. Pless in perplexity. 

"I am not drinking, Mr. Pless, " I explained. 

"Sorry, " said he, and curtly dismissed the man. I had a notion thatthe great lawyer looked a trifle disappointed. "I fancy you arewondering why I sent for you, Mr. Smart. "

"I am. "

"Am I to assume that the newspapers were correct in stating that youmean to support my cause with--I may say, to the full extent of yourpowers?"

"It depends on circumstances, Mr. Pless. "

"Circumstances?" He eyed me rather coldly, as if to say, "What righthave you to suggest circumstances?"

"Perhaps I should have said that it depends somewhat on what my powersrepresent. "

He crossed his slender legs comfortably and looked at me with a queerlittle tilt of his left eyebrow, but with an unsmiling visage. He wastoo cocksure of himself to grant me even so much as an ingratiatingsmile. Was not I a glory-seeking American and he one of the glorious?It would be doing me a favour to let me help him. 

"I trust you will understand, Mr. Smart, that I do not ask a favourof you, but rather put myself under a certain obligation for the timebeing. You have become a land-owner in this country, and as such, youshould ally yourself with the representative people of our land. Itis not an easy matter for a foreigner to plant himself in our midst, so to speak, --as a mushroom, --and expect to thrive on limited favours. I can be of assistance to you. My position, as you doubtless know, israther a superior one in the capital. An unfortunate marriage has notlessened the power that I possess as a birthright nor the esteem inwhich I am held throughout Europe. The disgraceful methods employedby my former wife in securing a divorce are well known to you, I takeit, and I am gratified to observe that you frown upon them. I supposeyou know the whole story?"

"I think I do, " said I, quietly. I have never known such consummateself-assurance as the fellow displayed. 

"Then you are aware that her father has defaulted under the terms ofan ante-nuptial agreement. There is still due me, under the contract, a round million of your exceedingly useful dollars. "

"With the interest to be added, " said the lawyer, thrumming on thechair-arm with his fingers something after the fashion my mother alwaysemploys in computing a simple sum in addition. 

"Certainly, " said Mr. Pless, sharply. "Mr. Smart understands that quiteclearly, Mr. Schymansky. It isn't necessary to enlighten him. "

The lawyer cleared his throat. I knew him at once for a shyster. Mr. Pless continued, addressing me. 

"Of course he will have to pay this money before his daughter may evenhope to gain from me the right to share the custody of our little girl, who loves me devotedly. When the debt is fully liquidated, I may consentto an arrangement by which she shall have the child part of the timeat least. "

"It seems to me she has the upper hand of you at present, however, "I said, not without secret satisfaction. "She may be in America bythis time. "

"I think not, " said he. "Every steamship has-been watched for days, and we are quite positive she has not sailed. There is the possibility, however, that she may, have been taken by motor to some out-of-the-wayplace where she will await the chance to slip away by means of aspecially chartered ship. It is this very thing that we are seekingto prevent. I do not hesitate to admit that if she once gets the childto New York, we may expect serious difficulty in obtaining our rights. I humbly confess that I have not the means to fight her in a land whereher father's millions count for so much. I am a poor man. My estatesare heavily involved through litigation started by my forbears. Youunderstand my position?" He said it with a rather pathetic twist ofhis lips. 

"I understand that you received a million in cash at the time of thewedding, " said I. "What has become of all that?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Can you expect me to indulge an extravagantwife, who seeks to become a social queen, and still save anything outof a paltry million?"

"Oh, I see. This is a new phase of the matter that hasn't been revealedto me. It was she who spent the million?"

"After a fashion, yes, " said he, without a spark of shame. "The chateauwas in rather a dilapidated condition, and she insisted on itsrestoration. It was also necessary to spend a great deal of money inthe effort to secure for herself a certain position in society. My ownposition was not sufficient for her. She wanted to improve upon it, I might say. We entertained a great deal, and lavishly. She wasaccustomed to gratifying every taste and whim that money could purchase. Naturally, it was not long before we were hard pressed for funds. Iwent to New York a year ago and put the matter clearly before herfather. He met me with another proposition which rather disgusted me. I am a man who believes in fair dealing. If I have an obligation Imeet it. Isn't that true, Mr. Schymansky?"

"It is, " said the lawyer. 

"Her father revoked his original plan and suggested an alternative. He proposed to put the million in trust for his granddaughter, ourRosemary, --a name, sir, that I abominate and which was given to herafter my wife had sulked for weeks, --the interest to be paid to hisdaughter until the child reached the age of twenty-one. Of course, Icould not accept such an arrangement. It--"

"Acting on my advice, --for I was present at the interview, --the Countemphatically declined to entertain--"

"Never mind, Schymansky, " broke in the Count petulantly. "What is theuse of going into all that?" He appeared to reflect for a moment. "Willyou be good enough to leave the room for awhile, Mr. Schymansky? Ithink Mr. Smart and I can safely manage a friendly compact withoutyour assistance. Eh, Mr. Smart?"

I couldn't feel sorry for Schymansky. He hadn't the backbone of anangleworm. If I were a lawyer and a client of mine were to speak tome as Pless spoke to him, I firmly believe I should have had at leasta fair sprinkling of his blood upon my hands. 

"I beg of you, Count, to observe caution and--"

"If you please, sir!" cut in the Count, with the austerity that makesthe continental nobleman what he is. 

"If you require my services, you will find me in the--"

"Not in the hall, I trust, " said his client in a most insulting way. 

Schymansky left the room without so much as a glance at me. He struckme as a man who knew his place better than any menial I've ever seen. I particularly noticed that not even his ears were red. 

"Rather rough way to handle a lawyer, it strikes me, " said I. "Isn'the any good?"

"He is as good as the best of them, " said the Count, lighting hisfourth or fifth cigarette. "I have no patience with the way they muddlematters by always talking law, law, law! If it were left to me, Ishould dismiss the whole lot of them and depend entirely upon mycommon-sense. If it hadn't been for the lawyers, I am convinced thatall this trouble could have been avoided, or at least amicably adjustedout of court. But I am saddled with half a dozen of them, simply becausetwo or three banks and as many private interests are inclined to beofficious. They claim that my interests are theirs, but I doubt it, by Jove, I do. They're a blood-sucking lot, these bankers. But I sha'n'tbore you with trivialities. Now here is the situation in a word. Itis quite impossible for me to prosecute the search for my child withoutfinancial assistance from outside sources. My funds are practicallyexhausted and the banks refuse to extend my credit. You have publiclydeclared yourself to be my friend and well-wisher. I have asked youto come here to-night, Mr. Smart, to put you to the real test, so toI speak. I want one hundred thousand dollars for six months. "

While I was prepared in a sense for the request, the brazenness withwhich he put it up to me took my breath away. I am afraid that thedegage manner in which he paid compliment to my affluence was too muchfor me. I blinked my eyes rapidly for a second or two and then allowedthem to settle into a stare of perplexity. 

"Really, Mr. Pless, " I mumbled in direct contrast to his sangfroid, "you--you surprise me. "

He laughed quietly, almost reassuringly, as he leaned forward in hischair the better to study my face. "I hope you do not think that Iexpect you to produce so much ready money to-night, Mr. Smart. Oh, no!Any time within the next few days will be satisfactory. Take your time, sir. I appreciate that it requires time to arrange for the--"

I held up my hand with a rather lofty air. "Was it one hundred andfifty thousand that you mentioned, or--"

"That was the amount, " said he, a sudden glitter in his eyes. 

I studied the ceiling with a calculating squint, as if trying toapproximate my balance in bank. He watched me closely, almostbreathlessly. At last, unable to control his eagerness, he said:

"At the usual rate of interest, you understand. "

"Certainly, " I said, and resumed my calculations. He got the impressionthat I was annoyed by the interruption. 

"I beg your pardon, " he said. 

"What security can you give, Mr. Pless?" I demanded in a verybusiness-like way. 

"Oh, you Americans!" he cried, his face beaming with premature relief. "You will pin us down, I see. I do not wonder that you are so rich. Ishall give you my personal note, Mr. Smart, for the amount, securedby a mortgage--a supplementary mortgage--on the Chateau Tarnowsy. "

Tarnowsy! Now I remembered everything. Tarnowsy! The name struck mymemory like a blow. What a stupid dolt I had been! The whole world hadrung wedding bells for the marriage of the Count Maris Tarnowsy, scionof one of the greatest Hungarian houses, and Aline, thenineteen-year-old daughter of Gwendolen and Jasper Titus, of New York, Newport, Tuxedo, Hot Springs, Palm Beach and so forth. Jasper Titus, the banker and railway magnate, whose name as well as his hand was tobe seen in every great financial movement of the last two decades!

What a fool I was not to recall a marriage that had been not only onthe lips of every man, woman and child in the States but on mine inparticular, for I had bitterly execrated the deliverance into bondageof this young girl of whose beauty and charm I had heard so much. 

The whole spectacular travesty came back to me with a rush, as I satthere in the presence of the only man who had ever been known to getthe better of Jasper Titus in a trade. I remembered with some vividnessmy scornful attitude toward the newspapers of the metropolis, all ofwhich fairly sloshed over with the news of the great event weeksbeforehand and weeks afterward. I was not the only man who said harshthings about Jasper Titus in those days. I was but one of the multitude. 

I also recalled my scathing comments at the time of the divorceproceedings. They were too caustic to be repeated here. It is onlynecessary to state that the proceedings came near to putting twofriendly nations into very bad temper. Statesmen and diplomats weredrawn into the mess, and jingo congressmen on our side of the waterintroduced sensational bills bearing specifically upon the internationalmarriage market. Newspaper humourists stood together as one man inadvocating a revision of the tariff upward on all foreign purchasescoming under the head of the sons of old masters. As I have said beforeI did not follow the course of the nasty squabble very closely, andwas quite indifferent as to the result. I have a vague recollectionof some one telling me that a divorce had been granted, but that isall. There was also something said about a child. 

My pleasant little mystery had come to a sharp and rather depressingend. The lovely countess about whom I had cast the veil of secrecy wasno other than the much-discussed Aline Titus and Mr. Pless the expensiveCount Tarnowsy. Cold, hard facts took the place of indulgent fancies. The dream was over. I was sorry to have it end. A joyous enthusiasmhad attended me while I worked in the dark; now a dreary reality staredme in the face. The sparkle was gone. Is there anything so sad as aglass of champagne when it has gone flat and lifeless?

My cogitations were brief. The Count after waiting for a minute or twoto let me grasp the full importance of the sacrifice he was ready tomake in order to secure me against personal loss, blandly announcedthat there were but two mortgages on the chateau, whereas nearly everyother place of the kind within his knowledge had thrice as many. 

"You wish me to accept a third mortgage on the place?" I inquired, pursing my lips. 

"The Chateau is worth at least a million, " he said earnestly. "But whyworry about that, Mr. Smart? My personal note is all that is necessary. The matter of a mortgage is merely incidental. I believe it isconsidered business-like by you Americans, so I stand quite ready toabide by your habits. I shall soon be in possession of a million inany event, so you are quite safe in advancing me any amount up to--"

"Just a moment, Count, " I interrupted, leaning forward in my chair. "May I inquire where and from whom you received the impression thatI am a rich man?"

He laughed easily. "One who indulges a whim, Mr. Smart, is always rich. Schloss Rothhoefen condemns you to the purgatory of Croesus. "

"Croesus would be a poor man in these days, " said I. "If he lived inNew York he would be wondering where his next meal was to come from. You have made a very poor guess as to my wealth. I am not a rich man. "

He eyed me coldly. "Have you suddenly discovered the fact, sir?"

"What do you mean?"

"I suggest a way in which you can be of assistance to me, and youhesitate. How am I to take it, sir?"

His infernal air of superiority aggravated me. "You may take it justas you please, Mr. Pless. "

"I beg you to remember that I am Count Tarnowsy. Mr. --"

I arose. "The gist of the matter is this: you want to borrow onehundred and fifty thousand dollars of me. That is--"

He hastened to correct me. "I do not call it borrowing when one givesample security for the amount involved. "

"What is your idea of borrowing, may I ask?"

"Borrowing is the same thing as asking a favour according to ourconception of the transaction. I am not asking a favour of you, sir. Far from it. I am offering you an opportunity to put a certain amountof money out at a high rate of interest. "

"Well, then, we'll look at it in that light. I am not in a positionto invest so much money at this time. To be perfectly frank with you, I haven't the money lying loose. "

"Suppose that I were to say that any day inside the next three or fourweeks would be satisfactory to me, " said he, as if he were grantingme a favour. " Please be seated, Mr. Smart. " He glanced at his watch. "I have ordered a light supper to be sent up at ten o'clock. We can--"

"Thank you. I fear it is impossible for me to remain. "

"I shall be disappointed. However, another time if not to-night, Itrust. And now to come to the point. May I depend upon you to help meat this trying period? A few thousand will be sufficient for presentneeds, and the balance may go over a few weeks without seriouslyinconveniencing me. If we can come to some sort of an understandingto-night, my attorney will be happy to meet you to-morrow at any timeand place you may suggest. "

I actually was staggered. Upon my word it was almost as if he weredunning me and magnanimously consenting to give me an extension oftime if I could see my way clear to let him have something on account. My choler was rising. 

"I may as well tell you first as last, Count Tarnowsy, that I cannotlet you have the money. It is quite impossible. In the first place, I haven't the amount to spare; in the second--"

"Enough, sir, " he broke in angrily. "I have committed the common errorof regarding one of you as a gentleman. Damn me, if I shall ever doso again. There isn't one in the whole of the United States. Will yoube good enough, Mr. Smart, to overlook my mistake? I thank you fortaking the trouble to rush into print in my defence. If you have gainedanything by it, I do not begrudge you the satisfaction you must feelin being heralded as the host of Count Tarnowsy and his friend. Youobtained the privilege very cheaply. "

"You will do well, sir, to keep a civil tongue in your head, " said I, paling with fury. 

"I have nothing more to say to you, Mr. Smart, " said he contemptuously. "Good night. Francois! Conduct Mr. Smart to the corridor. "

Francois--or "Franko" as Britton, whose French is very lame, had calledhim--preceded me to the door. In all my experience, nothing hassurprised me so much as my ability to leave the room without firstkicking Francois' master, or at least telling him what I thought ofhim. Strangely enough I did not recover my sense of speech until I waswell out into the corridor. Then I deliberately took a gold coin outof my pocket and pressed it into the valet's hand. 

"Kindly give that to your master with my compliments, " said I, in avoice that was intended to reach Tarnowsy's ear. 

"Bon soir, m'sieu, " said Francois, with an amiable grin. He watchedme descend the stairs and then softly closed the door. 

In the office I came upon Mr. Schymansky. 

"I trust everything is satisfactorily arranged, Mr. --" he began smilingand rubbing his hands. He was so utterly unprepared for the severityof the interruption that the smile was still in process of congealingas I stepped out into the narrow, illy-lighted street. 

Max and Rudolph were waiting at the wharf for me. Their excellent armsand broad backs soon drove the light boat across the river. But onceduring the five or ten minutes of passage did I utter a word, and thatword, while wholly involuntary and by no means addressed to my oarsmen, had the remarkable effect of making them row like fury for the remainderof the distance. 

Mr. Poopendyke was waiting for me in the courtyard. He was carryinga lantern, which he held rather close to my face as if looking forsomething he dreaded to see. 

"What the devil is the matter with you?" I demanded irascibly. "What'sup? What are you doing out here with a lantern?"

"I was rather anxious, " he said, a note of relief in his voice. "Ifeared that something unexpected might have befallen you. Five minutesago the--Mr. Pless called up on the telephone and left a message foryou. It rather upset me, sir. "

"He did, eh? Well, what did he say?"

"He merely commanded me to give you his compliments and to tell youto go to the devil. I told him that you would doubtless be at home alittle later on and it would sound very much better if it came fromhim instead of from me. Whereupon he told me to accompany you, givingrather explicit directions. He appeared to be in a tremendous rage. "

I laughed heartily. "I must have got under his confounded skin afterall. "

"I was a little worried, so I came out with the lantern. One never cantell. Did you come to blows?"

"Blows? What puts that idea into your head?"

"The Countess was listening on the extension wire while he was speakingto me. She thought it was you calling up and was eager to hear whathad happened. It was she who put it into my head. She said you musthave given his nose a jolly good pulling or something of the sort. Iam extremely sorry, but she heard every word he said, even to themildest damn. "

"It must have had a very familiar sound to her, " I said sourly. 

"So she informed me. "

"Oh, you've seen her, eh?"

"She came down to the secret door a few minutes ago and urged me toset out to meet you. She says she can hardly wait for the news. I wasto send you upstairs at once. "

Confound him, he took that very instant to hold the lantern up to myface again, and caught me grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

I hurried to my room and brushed myself up a bit. On my bureau, in aglass of water, there was a white boutonniere, rather clumsilyconstructed and all ready to be pinned in the lapel of my coat. Iconfess to a blush. I wish Britton would not be so infernally arduousin his efforts to please me. 

The Countess gave a little sigh of relief when I dashed in upon hera few minutes later. She had it all out of me before I had quiterecovered my breath after the climb upstairs. 

"And so it was I who spent all the money, " she mused, with a far-awaylook in her eyes. 

"In trying to be a countess, " said I boldly. 

She smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"Delightfully, " said I. 

We sat down at the table. "Now tell me everything all over again, " shesaid. 

CHAPTER XII

I AM INFORMED THAT I AM IN LOVE

Mr. Poopendyke began to develop a streak of romantic invention--infact, tomfoolery--A day or two after my experience with Count Tarnowsyin the Rempf Hotel. He is the last person in the world of whom I--orany one else--would suspect silliness of a radical nature. 

We were finding it rather difficult to get down to actual, seriouswork on the book. The plot and the synopsis, of course, were quitecompletely outlined; with ordinary intensity of purpose on my part thetale might have galloped through the introductory chapters with someclarity and decisiveness. But for some reason I lacked the power ofconcentration, or perhaps more properly speaking the power ofinitiative. I laid it to the hub-bub created by the final effort ofthe workmen to finish the job of repairing my castle before cold weatherset in. 

"That isn't it, Mr. Smart, " said my secretary darkly. We were in thestudy and my pad of paper was lying idly on my knees. For half an hourI had been trying to think of a handy sentence with which to open thestory; the kind of sentence that catches the unwary reader's attentionat a glance and makes for interest. 

"What is it, then?" I demanded, at once resenting an opinion. 

He smiled mysteriously. "You were not thinking of the workmen justnow, were you?"

"Certainly, " said I, coldly. "What's that got to do with it?"

"Nothing, I suppose, " said he resignedly. 

I hesitated. "Of course it is the work that upsets me. What are youdriving at?"

He stared for a long time at the portrait of Ludwig the Red. "Isn'tit odd that the Countess, an American, should be descended from theold Rothhoefens? What a small world it is, after all!"

I became wary. "Nothing odd about it to me. We've all got to descendfrom somebody. "

"I dare say. Still it is odd that she should be hiding in the castleof her ances--"

"Not at all, not at all. It just happens to be a handy place. Perfectlynatural. "

We lapsed into a prolonged spell of silence. I found myself watchinghim rather combatively, as who would anticipate the move of anadversary. 

"Perfect rot, " said I, at last, without rhyme or reason. 

He grinned. "Nevertheless, it's the general opinion that you are, "said he. 

I sat up very straight. "What's that?"

"You're in love, " said he succinctly. It was like a bomb, and a bombis the very last thing in succinctness. It comes to the point withoutpalaver or conjecture, and it reduces havoc to a single synonymoussyllable. 

"You're crazy!" I gasped. 

"And the workmen haven't anything at all to do with it, " he pronouncedemphatically. It was a direct charge. I distinctly felt called uponto refute it. But while I was striving to collect my thoughts he wenton, somewhat arbitrarily, I thought: "You don't think we're all blind, do you, Mr. Smart?" "We?" I murmured, a curious dampness assailing me. 

"That is to say, Britton, the Schmicks and myself. "

"The Schmicks?" It was high time that I should laugh. "Ha! ha! TheSchmicks! Good Lord, man, --the _Schmicks_. " It sounded inane even to me, but, on my soul, it was all I could think of to say. 

"The Schmicks are tickled to death over it, " said he. "And so isBritton. "

Collecting all the sarcasm that I could command at the instant, Iinquired: "And you, Mr. Poopendyke, --are you not ticklish?"

"Very, " said he. 

"Well, I'm not!" said I, savagely. "What does all this nonsense mean. Don't be an ass, Fred. "

"Perhaps you don't know it, Mr. Smart, but you _are_ in love, " said heso convincingly that I was conscious of an abrupt sinking of the heart. Good heavens! Was he right? Was there anything in this silly twaddle?"You are quite mad about her. "

"The deuce you say!" I exclaimed, rather blankly. 

"Oh, I've seen it coming. For that matter, so has she. It's as plainas the nose--"

I leaped to my feet, startled. "She? You don't--Has she said anythingthat leads you to believe--Oh, the deuce! What rot!"

"No use getting angry over it, " he said consolingly. "Falling in loveis the sort of thing a fellow can't help, you know. It happens withouthis assistance. It is so easy. Now I was once in love with a girl fortwo years without really knowing it. "

"And how did you find it out?" I asked, weakly. 

"I didn't find it out until she married another chap. Then I knew I'dbeen in love with her all the time. But that's neither here nor there. You are heels over head in love with the Countess Tarnowsy and--"

"Shut up, Fred! You're going daffy from reading my books, or absorbingmy manuscripts, or--"

"Heaven is my witness, I don't read your books and I merely correctyour manuscripts. God knows there is no romance in that! You _are_ inlove. Now what are you going to do about it?"

"Do about it?" I demanded. 

"You can't go on in this way, you know, " he said relentlessly. "Shewon't--"

"Why, you blithering idiot, " I roared, "do you know what you are saying?I'm not in love with anybody. My heart is--is--But never mind! Now, listen to me, Fred. This nonsense has got to cease. I won't have it. Why, she's already got a husband. She's had all she can stand in theway of husb--"

"Rubbish! She can stand a husband or two more, if you are going tolook at it in a literal way. Besides, she hasn't a husband. She'schucked him. Good riddance, too. Now, do you imagine for a singleinstant that a beautiful, adorable young woman of twenty-three is goingto spend the rest of her life without a man? Not much! She's free tomarry again and she will. "

"Admitting that to be true, why should she marry me?"

"I didn't say she was in love with you. I said you were in love withher. "

"Oh, " I said, and my face fell "I see. "

He seemed to be considering something. After a few seconds, he noddedhis head decisively. "Yes, I am sure of it. If the right man gets her, she'll make the finest, sweetest wife in the world. She's never hada chance to show what's really in her. She would be adorable, wouldn'tshe?"

The sudden question caught me unawares. 

"She would!" I said, with conviction. 

"Well, " said he, slowly and deliberately, "why don't you set about it, then ?"

He was so ridiculous that I thought for the fun of it, I'd humour him. 

"Assuming that you are right in regard to my feelings toward her, Fred, what leads you to believe that I would stand a chance of winning her?"It was a silly question, but I declare I hung on his answer with atenseness that surprised me. 

"Why not? You are good looking, a gentleman, a celebrity, and a man. Bless my soul, she _could_ do worse. "

"But you forget that I am--let me see--thirty-five and she is buttwenty-three. "

"To offset that, she has been married and unhappy. That brings herabout up to your level, I should say. She's a mother, and that makesyou seem a good bit younger. Moreover, she isn't a sod widow. She'sa grass widow, and she's got a living example to use as a contrast. Regulation widows sometimes forget the past because it is dim and dead;but, by George, sir, the divorced wife doesn't forget the hard timeshe's had. She's mighty careful when she goes about it the second time. The other kind has lost her sense of comparison, her standard, so tospeak. Her husband may have been a rotter and all that sort of thing, but he's dead and buried and she can't see anything but the good thatwas in him for the simple reason that it's on his tombstone. But whenthey're still alive and as bad as ever, --well, don't you see it'sdifferent?"

"It occurs to me she'd be more likely to see the evil in all men andsteer clear of them. "

"That isn't feminine nature. All women want to be loved. They want tobe married. They want to make some man happy. "

"I suppose all this is philosophy, " I mused, somewhat pleased andmollified. "But we'll look at it from another point of view. The formerMiss Titus set out for a title. She got it. Do you imagine she'll marrya man who has no position--By Jove! That reminds me of something. Youare altogether wrong in your reasoning, Fred. With her own lips shedeclared to me one day that she'd never marry again. There you are!"

He rolled his eyes heavenward. 

"They take delight in self-pity, " said he. "You can't believe 'em underoath when they're in that mood. "

"Well, granting that she will marry again, " said I, rather insistently, "it doesn't follow that her parents will consent to a marriage withany one less than a duke the next time. "

"They've had their lesson. "

"And she is probably a mercenary creature, after all. She's had a tasteof poverty, after a fashion. I imagine--"

"If I know anything about women, the Countess Tarnowsy wants love morethan anything else in the world, my friend. She was made to be lovedand she knows it. And she hasn't had any of it, except from men whodidn't happen to know how to combine love and respect. I'll give youmy candid opinion, Mr. John Bellamy Smart. She's in a receptive mood. Strike while the iron is hot. You'll win or my name isn't--"

"Fred Poopendyke, you haven't a grain of sense, " I broke in sharply. "Do you suppose, just to oblige you, I'll get myself mixed up in thiswretched squabble? Why, she's not really clear of the fellow yet. She'sgot a good many months to wait before the matter of the child and thefinal decree--"

"Isn't she worth waiting a year for--or ten years? Besides, the wholesquabble will come to an end the minute old man Titus puts up the backmillion. And the minute the Countess goes to him and says she's_willing_ for him to pay it, you take my word for it, he'll settle likea flash. It rests with her. "

"I don't quite get your meaning. "

"She isn't going to let a stingy little million stand between her andhappiness. "

"Confound you, do you mean to say she'd ask her father to pay overthat million in order to be free to marry--" I did not condescend tofinish the sentence. 

"Why not?" he demanded after a moment. "He owes it, doesn't he?"

I gasped. "But you wouldn't have him pay over a million to that damnedbrute of a Count!"

He grinned. "You've changed your song, my friend. A few weeks ago youwere saying he ought to pay it, that it would serve him right, and--"

"Did I say that?"

"You did. You even said it to the Countess. "

"But not with the view to making it possible for her to hurry off andmarry again. Please understand that, Fred. "

"He ought to pay what he owes. He gave a million to get one husbandfor her. He ought to give a million to be rid of him, so that she couldmarry the next one without putting him to any expense whatsoever. It'sonly fair to her, I say. And now I'll tell you something else: theCountess, who has stood out stubbornly against the payment of thismoney, is now halfway inclined to advise the old gentleman to settlewith Tarnowsy. "

"She is?" I cried in astonishment. "How do you know?"

"I told her I thought it was the cheapest and quickest way out of it, and she said: 'I wonder!'"

"Have you been discussing her most sacred affairs with her, youblithering--"

"No, sir, " said he, with dignity. "She has been discussing them with_me_"

I have no recollection of what I said as I stalked out of the room. He called out after me, somewhat pleadingly, I thought:

"Ask Britton what he has to say about it. "

Things had come to a pretty pass! Couldn't a gentleman be polite andagreeable to a young and charming lady whom circumstances had thrownin his way without having his motives misconstrued by a lot of snooping, idiotic menials whose only zest in life sprung from a temperamentaltendency to belittle the big things and enlarge upon the small ones?What rot! What utter rot! Ask Britton! The more I thought ofPoopendyke's injunction the more furious I grew. What insufferableinsolence! Ask Britton! The idea! Ask _my valet_! Ask him what? Ask himpolitely if he could oblige me by telling me whether I was in love? Isuppose that is what Poopendyke meant. 

It was the silliest idea in the world. In the first place I was _not_ inlove, and in the second place whose business was it but mine if I were?Certainly not Poopendyke's, certainly not Britton's, certainly not theSchmicks'! Absolute lack of any sense of proportion, that's what ailedthe whole bally of them. What looked like love to them--benighteddolts!--was no more than a rather resolute effort on my part to be kindto and patient with a person who had invaded my home and seteverybody--including myself--by the ears. 

But, even so, what right had my secretary to constitute himself adviserand mentor to the charming invader? What right had he to suggest whatshe should do, or what her father should do, or what _anybody_ shoulddo? He was getting to be disgustingly officious. What he needed was asmart jacking up, a little plain talk from me. Give a privileged andadmittedly faithful secretary an inch and he'll have you up to your earsin trouble before you know what has happened. By the same token, whatright had she to engage herself in confidential chats with--But justthen I caught sight of Britton coming upstairs with my neatly polishedtan shoes in one hand and a pair of number 3-1/2A tan pumps in theother. Not expecting to meet me in the hall, he had neglected to removehis cap when he came in from the courtyard. In some confusion, he triedto take it off, first with one hand, then with the other, sustainingwhat one might designate as absent treatment kicks on either jaw fromtwo distinct sexes in the shape of shoes. He managed to get all four ofthem into one hand, however, and then grabbed off his cap. 

"Anythink more, sir?" he asked, purely from habit. I was regarding theshoes with interest. Never have I known anything so ludicrous as thecontrast between my stupendous number tens and the dainty pumps thatseemed almost babyish beside them. 

Then I did the very thing I had excoriated Poopendyke for evensuggesting. I asked Britton!

"Britton, what's all this gossip I hear going the rounds of the castlebehind my back?"

Confound him, he looked pleased! "It's quite true, sir, quite true. "

"Quite true!" I roared. "What's quite true, sir?"

"Isn't it, sir?" he asked, dismayed. 

"Isn't what?"

"I mean to say, sir, isn't it true?"

"My God!" I cried, throwing up my hands in hopeless despair. "You--you--wait! I'm going to get to the bottom of this. I want thetruth, Britton. Who put it into that confounded head of yours that Iam--er--in love with the Countess? Speak! Who did it?"

He lowered his voice, presumably because I had dropped mine to a veryloud whisper. I also had glanced over both shoulders. 

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I must be honest, sir. It was you asfirst put it into my 'ead, sir. "

"I?" My face went the colour of a cardinal's cap. 

"You, sir. It's as plain as the nose on your--"

"That will do, Britton, " I commanded. He remained discreetly silent. "That will do, I say, " I repeated, somewhat testily. "Do you hear, sir?"

"Yes, sir, " he responded. "That will do, you says. "

"Ahem! I--ahem!" Somewhat clumsily I put on my nose-glasses and madea pretext of examining his burden rather closely. "What's this youhave here. "

"Shoes, sir. "

"I see, I see. Let me have them. "

He handed me my own. "The others, if you please, " I said, disdainingthe number tens. "May I inquire, sir, where you are taking _these_?"I had the Countess's pumps in my hands. He explained that he was goingto drop mine in my room and then take hers upstairs. "You may dropmine as you intended. I shall take care of these. "

"Very good, sir, " said he, with such positive relief in his voice thatI glared at him. He left me standing there, a small pump in each hand. 

Five minutes later I was at her door, a pump in each hand and my heartin my mouth. A sudden, inexplicable form of panic took possession ofme. I stood there ready to tap resoundingly on the panel of the doorwith the heel of a slipper; I never raised my hand for the purpose. 

Instead of carrying out my original design, I developed an overpoweringdesire to do nothing of the sort. Why go on making a fool of myself?Why add fuel to the already pernicious flame? Of course I was not inlove with her, the idea was preposterous. But, just the same, theconfounded servants were beginning to gossip, and back stair scandalis the very worst type. It was wrong for me to encourage it. Like aninny, I had just given Britton something to support his contention, and he wouldn't be long in getting down to the servants' hall with thelatest exhibit in the charge against me. 

Moreover, if every one was talking about it, what was to prevent thesilly gossip from reaching the sensitive ears of the Countess? Asickening thought struck me: could it be possible that the Countessherself suspected me of being in love with her? A woman's vanity goesa long way sometimes. The thought did not lessen the panic thatafflicted me. I tip-toed away from the door to a less exposed spot atthe bend in the stairway. 

There, after some deliberation, I came to a decision. The proper thingfor me to do was to show all of them that their ridiculous suspicionswere wrong. I owed it to the Countess, to say the least. She was myguest, as it were, and it was my duty to protect her while she was inmy house. The only thing for me to do, therefore, was to stay awayfrom her. 

The thought of it distressed me, but it seemed to be the only way, andthe fair one. No doubt she would expect some sort of an explanationfor the sudden indifference on my part, but I could attribute everythingto an overpowering desire to work on my story. (I have a habit of usingmy work as an excuse for not doing a great many things that I oughtto do. )

All this time I was regarding the small tan pumps with something akinto pain in my eyes. I could not help thinking about the tiny feet theysometimes covered. By some sort of intuitive computation I arrived atthe conclusion that they were adorably small, and pink, and warm. Suddenly it occurred to me that my present conduct was reprehensible, that no man of honour would be holding a lady's pumps in his hands andallowing his imagination to go too far. Resolutely I put them behindmy back and marched downstairs. 

"Britton, " said I, a few minutes later, "you may take these up to theCountess, after all. "

He blinked his eyes. "Wasn't she at 'ome, sir?"

"Don't be insolent, Britton. Do as I tell you. "

"Very good, sir. " He held the pumps up to admire them. "They're verycute, ain't they, sir?"

"They are just like _all_ pumps, " said I, indifferently, and walkedaway. If I could have been quite sure that it was a chuckle I heard, Ishould have given Britton something to think about for the rest of hisdays. The impertinent rascal!

For some two long and extremely monotonous days I toiled. A chaptershaped itself--after a fashion. Even as I wrote, I knew that it wasn'tsatisfactory and that I should tear it up the instant it was finished. What irritated me more than anything else was the certain convictionthat Poopendyke, who typed it as I progressed, also knew that it wouldgo into the waste paper basket. 

Both nights I went to bed early and to sleep late. I could not denyto myself that I was missing those pleasant hours with the Countess. I _did_ miss them. I missed Rosemary and Jinko and Helen Marie LouiseAntoinette and Blake. 

An atmosphere of gloom settled around Poopendyke and Britton. Theyeyed me with a sort of pathetic wonder in their faces. As time wenton they began to look positively forlorn and unhappy. Once or twiceI caught them whispering in the hallway. On seeing me they assumed anair of nonchalance that brought a grim smile to my lips. I was beginningto hate them. Toward the end of the second day, the four Schmicksbecame so aggravatingly doleful that I ordered them, one and all, tokeep out of my sight. Even the emotionless Hawkes and the perfectBlatchford were infected. I don't believe I've ever seen a human faceas solemnly respectful as Hawkes' was that night at dinner. He seemedto be pitying me from the bottom of his heart. It was getting on mynerves. 

I took a stroll in the courtyard after dinner, and I may be forgivenI hope for the few surreptitious glances I sent upwards in the directionof the rear windows in the eastern wing. I wondered what she was doing, and what she was thinking of my extraordinary behaviour, and why thedeuce she hadn't sent down to ask me to come up and tell her how busyI was. She had not made a single sign. The omission was not particularlygratifying, to say the least. 

Approaching the servants' hall, I loitered. I heard voices, a mixtureof tongues. Britton appeared to be doing the most of the talking. Gradually I became aware of the fact that he was explaining to thefour Schmicks the meaning of an expression in which must have beenincorporated the words "turned him down. "

Hawkes, the impeccable Hawkes, joined in. "If I know anything aboutit, I'd say she has threw the 'ooks into 'im. "

Then they had to explain _that_ to Conrad and Gretel, who repeated "Ach, Gott" and other simple expletives in such a state of misery that I couldalmost detect tears in their voices. 

"It ain't that, Mr. 'Awkes, " protested Britton loyally. "He's lost hisnerve, that's wot it is. They allus do when they realise 'ow bad they'rehit. Turn 'im down? Not much, Mr. 'Awkes. Take it from me, Mr. 'Awkes, he's not going to give 'er the _chawnce_ to turn 'im down. "

"Ach, Gott!" said Gretel. I will stake my head that she wrung herhands. 

"Women is funny, " said Hawkes. (I had no idea the wretch was soungrammatical. ) "You can't put your finger on 'em ever. While I 'aven'tseen much of the Countess during my present engagement, I will saythis: she has a lot more sense than people give 'er credit for. Nowwhy should she throw the 'ooks into a fine, upstanding chap like 'im, even if he is an American? She made a rotten bad job the first time, mind you. If she has threw the 'ooks into 'im, as I am afeared, I can'tsee wot the deuce ails 'er. "

My perfect footman, Blatchford, ventured an opinion, and I blessed himfor it. "We may be off our nuts on the 'ole bloomink business, " saidhe. "Maybe he 'as thrown the 'ooks into 'er. Who knows? It looks thatw'y to me. " (I remember distinctly that he used the word "thrown" andI was of half a mind to rush in and put him over Hawkes, there andthen. )

"In any case, " said Britton, gloom in his voice, "it's a most unhappystate of affairs. He's getting to be a perfect crank. Complines abouteverything I do. He won't 'ave 'is trousers pressed and he 'asn't beenshaved since Monday. "

I stole away, rage in my soul. Or was it mortification? In any event, I had come to an irrevocable decision: I would ship the whole lot ofthem, without notice, before another day was gone. 

The more I thought of the way I was being treated by my own servants, and the longer I dwelt upon the ignominious figure I must have presentedas the hero of their back-door romance, the angrier I got. I was anobject of concern to them, an object of pity! Confound them, they werefeeling sorry for me because I had received my _conge_, and they wereactually finding fault with me for not taking it with a grin on my face!

Before going to bed I went into the loggia (for the first time in threedays) and, keeping myself pretty well hidden behind a projection inthe wall, tried to get a glimpse of the Countess's windows. Failingthere, I turned my steps in another direction and soon stood upon mylittle balcony. There was no sign of her in the windows, although afaint light glowed against the curtains of a well-remembered room nearthe top of the tower. 

Ah, what a cosy, jolly room! What a delicious dinner I had had there!And what a supper! Somehow, I found myself thinking of those littletan pumps. As a matter of fact, they had been a source of annoyanceto me for more than forty-eight hours. I had found myself thinking ofthem at most inopportune times, greatly to the detriment of my workas a realist. 

It was cool on the balcony, and I was abnormally warm, as might beexpected. It occurred to me that I might do worse than to sit out therein the cool of the evening and enjoy a cigar or two--three or four, if necessary. 

But, though I sat there until nearly midnight and chattered my teethalmost out of my head with the cold, she did not appear at her window. The aggravating part of it was that while I was shivering out therein the beastly raw, miasmic air, she doubtless was lying on a luxuriouscouch before a warm fire in a dressing gown and slippers, --ah, slippers!--reading a novel and thinking of nothing in the world buther own comfort! And those rascally beggars presumed to think that Iwas in love with a selfish, self-centred, spoiled creature like that!Rubbish!

I am afraid that Poopendyke found me in a particularly irascible frameof mind the next morning. I know that Britton did. I thought betterof my determination to discharge Britton. He was an exceptionally goodservant and a loyal fellow, so why should I deprive myself of a treasuresimply because the eastern wing of my abode was inhabited by anunfeeling creature who hadn't a thought beyond fine feathers andbonbons? I was not so charitably inclined toward Hawkes and Blatchford, who were in my service through an influence over which I did not appearto have any control. They would have to go. 

"Mr. Poopendyke, " said I, after Blatchford had left the breakfast room, "I want you to give notice to Hawkes and Blatchford to-day. "

"Notice?" he exclaimed incredulously. 

"Notice, " said I, very distinctly. 

He looked distressed. "I thought they were most; satisfactory to you. "

"I've changed my opinion. "

"By Jove, Mr. Smart, I--I don't know how the Countess will take suchhigh-handed--ahem! You see, sir, she--she was good enough to recommendthem to me. It will be quite a shock to--"

"By the Lord Harry, Fred, am I to--"

"Don't misunderstand me, " he made haste to say. "This is your house. You have a perfect right to hire and discharge, but--but--Don't youthink you'd better consider very carefully--" He seemed to be findinghis collar rather tight. 

I held up my hand. "Of course I do not care to offend the CountessTarnowsy. It was very kind of her to recommend them. We--we will letthe matter rest for a few days. "

"She has informed me that you were especially pleased with the mannerin which they served the dinner the other night. I think she said youregarded them as incomparable diadems, or something of the sort. Itmay have been the champagne. "

My thoughts leaped backward to that wonderful dinner. "It wasn't thechampagne, " said I, very stiffly. 

"Do you also contemplate giving notice to the chef and his wife, ouronly chambermaid?"

"No, I don't, " I snapped. "I think they were in bed. "

He looked at me as if he thought I had gone crazy. I wriggleduncomfortably in my chair for a second or two, and then abruptlyannounced that we'd better get to work. I have never ceased to wonderwhat construction he could have put on that stupid slip of the tongue. 

I cannot explain why, but at the slightest unusual sound that morningI found myself shooting an involuntary glance at the imperturbablefeatures of Ludwig the Red. Sometimes I stopped in the middle of asentence, to look and to listen rather more intently than seemedabsolutely necessary, and on each occasion I was obliged to begin thesentence all over again, because, for the life of me, I couldn'tremember what it was I had set out to say in dictation. Poopendyke hadan air of patient tolerance about him that irritated me intensely. More than once I thought I detected him in the act of suppressing asmile. 

At eleven o'clock, Blatchford came to the door. His ordinarily stoicalfeatures bore signs of a great, though subdued excitement. I had afleeting glimpse of Britton in the distance, --a sort of passing shadow, as it were. 

"A note for you, sir, if you please, " said he. He was holding thesalver almost on a level with his nose. It seemed to me that he waslooking at it out of the corner of his eye. 

My heart--my incomprehensible heart--gave a leap that sent the bloodrushing to my face. He advanced, not with his usual imposing tread butwith a sprightliness that pleased me vastly. I took the little pearlgrey envelope from the salver, and carelessly glanced at thesuperscription. There was a curious ringing in my ears. 

"Thank you, Blatchford; that will do. "

"I beg pardon, sir, but there is to be an answer. "

"Oh, " said I. I had the feeling that at least fifty eyes were upon me, although I am bound to admit that both Poopendyke and the footman wereactively engaged in looking in another direction. 

I tore open the envelope. 

"_Have you deserted me entirely? Won't you please come and see me?Thanks 'for the violets, but I can't talk to violets, you know. Pleasecome up for luncheon. _"

I managed to dash off a brief note in a fairly nonchalant manner. Blatchford almost committed the unpardonable crime of slamming thedoor behind him, he was in such a hurry to be off with the message. 

Then I went over and stood above Mr. Poopendyke. 

"Mr. Poopendyke, " said I slowly, darkly, "what do you know about thoseviolets?"

He quailed. "I hope you don't mind, Mr. Smart. It's all right. I putone of your cards in, so that there couldn't be any mistake. "

CHAPTER XIII

I VISIT AND AM VISITED

Halfway up the winding stairways, I paused in some astonishment. Ithad just occurred to me that I was going up the steps two at a timeand that my heart was beating like mad. 

I reflected. Here was I racing along like a schoolboy, and wherefor?What occasion was there for such unseemly haste? In the first place, it was now but a few minutes after eleven, and she had asked me forluncheon; there was no getting around that. At best luncheon was twohours off. So why was I galloping like this? The series ofself-inflicted questions found me utterly unprepared; I couldn't answerone of them. My brain somehow couldn't get at them intelligently; Iwas befuddled. I progressed more slowly, more deliberately, finallycoming to a full stop in a sitting posture in one of the windowcasements, where I lighted a cigarette and proceeded to thresh thething out in my mind before going any farther. 

The fundamental problem was this: why was I breaking my neck to getto her before Blatchford had time to deliver my response to herappealing little note? It was something of a facer, and it set me towondering. Why was I so eager? Could it be possible that there wasanything in the speculation of my servants? I recalled the sensationof supreme delight that shot through me when I received her note, butafter that a queer sort of oblivion seems to have surrounded me, fromwhich I was but now emerging in a timely struggle for self-control. There was something really startling about it, after all. 

I profess to be a steady, level-headed, prosaic sort of person, andthis surprising reversion to extreme youthfulness rather staggered me. In fact it brought a cold chill of suspicion into existence. Grown-upmen do not, as a rule, fly off the head unless confronted by someprodigious emotion, such as terror, grief or guilt. And yet here wasI going into a perfect rampage of rapture over a simple, unconventionalcommunication from a lady whom I had known for less than a month andfor whom I had no real feeling of sympathy whatever. The chill ofsuspicion continued to increase. 

If it had been a cigar that I was smoking it would have gone out throughneglect. A cigarette goes on forever and smells. 

After ten minutes of serious, undisturbed consideration of the matter, I came to the final conclusion that it was not love but pity that haddriven me to such abnormal activity. It was nonsense to even argue thepoint. 

Having thoroughly settled the matter to my own satisfaction and relief, I acknowledged a feeling of shame for having been so precipitous. Ishudder to think of the look she would have given me if I had burstin upon her while in the throes of that extraordinary seizure. ObviouslyI had lost my wits. Now I had them once more, I knew what to do withthem. First of all, I would wait until one o'clock before presentingmyself for luncheon. Clearly that was the thing to do. Secondly, Iwould wait on this side of the castle instead of returning to my ownrooms, thereby avoiding a very unpleasant gauntlet. Luckily I hadprofited by the discussion in the servants' quarters and was not wearinga three days' growth of beard. Moreover, I had taken considerable painsin dressing that morning. Evidently a presentiment. 

For an hour and a half by my watch, but five or six by my nerves, Ipaced the lonely, sequestered halls in the lower regions of the castle. Two or three times I was sure that my watch had stopped, the handsseemed so stationary. The third time I tried to wind it, I broke themainspring, but as it was nearly one o'clock not much harm was done. 

That one little sentence, _"Have you deserted me?"_ grew to be avoluminous indictment. I could think of nothing else. There wassomething ineffably sad and pathetic about it. Had she been unhappybecause of my beastly behaviour? Was her poor little heart sore overmy incomprehensible conduct? Perhaps she had cried through sheerloneliness--But no! It would never do for me to even think of her intears. I remembered having detected tears in her lovely eyes early inour acquaintance and the sight of them--or the sensation, if youplease--quite unmanned me. 

At last I approached her door. Upon my soul, my legs were trembling!I experienced a silly sensation of fear. A new problem confronted me:what was I to say to her? Following close upon this came another andeven graver question: what would she say to me? Suppose she were tolook at me with hurt, reproachful eyes and speak to me with a littlequaver in her voice as she held out her hand to me timidly--what then?What would become of me? By Jove, the answer that flashed through mywhole body almost deprived me of reason!

I hesitated, then, plucking up my courage and putting all sillyquestions behind me, I rapped resoundingly on the door. 

The excellent Hawkes opened it! I started back in dismay. He stoodaside impressively. 

"Mr. Smart!" he announced. Damn it all!

I caught sight of the Countess. She was arranging some flowers on thetable. Blatchford was placing the knives and forks. Helen Marie LouiseAntoinette stood beside her mistress holding a box of flowers in herhands. 

What was it that I had been thinking out there in those gloomy halls?That she would greet me with a pathetic, hurt look and... 

"Good morning!" she cried gaily. Hurt? Pathetic? She was radiant! "Soglad to see you again. Hawkes has told me how busy you've been. " Shedried her hands on the abbreviated apron of Helen Marie LouiseAntoinette and then quite composedly extended one for me to shake. 

I bowed low over it. "Awfully, awfully busy, " I murmured. Was it reliefat finding her so happy and unconcerned that swept through me? I ammorally, but shamelessly certain it wasn't!

"Don't you think the roses are lovely in that old silver bowl?"

"Exquisite. "

"Blatchford found it in the plate vault, " she said, standing off toadmire the effect. "Do you mind if I go on arranging them?" she asked, and without waiting for an answer resumed her employment. 

"Bon jour, m'sieur, " said Helen Marie Louise Antoinette over hermistress's shoulder. One never knows whether a French maid is politeor merely spiteful. 

"It seems ages since I saw you last, " said the Countess in a matter-of-fact tone, jiggling a rose into position and then standing off tostudy the effect, her head cocked prettily at an angle of inquiry. 

It suddenly occurred to me that she had got on very well without meduring the ages. The discovery irritated me. She was not behaving atall as I had expected. This cool, even casual reception certainly wasnot in keeping with my idea of what it ought to have been. "But Mr. Poopendyke has been awfully kind. He has given me all the news. "

Poopendyke! Had he been visiting her without my knowledge or--was Iabout to say consent?

"There hasn't been a great deal of news, " I said. 

She dropped a long-stemmed rose and waited for me to pick it up. 

"Thank you, " she said. "Oh, did it prick you?"

"Yes, " said I flatly. Then we both gave the closest attention to theend of my thumb while I triumphantly squeezed a tiny drop of blood outof it. I sucked it. The incident was closed. She was no longerinterested in the laceration. 

"Mr. Poopendyke knew how lonely I would be. He telephoned twice a day. "

I thought I detected a slight note of pique in her voice. But it wasso slight that it was hardly worth while to exult. 

"So you thought I had deserted you, " I said, and was a little surprisedat the gruffness in my voice. 

"The violets appeased me, " she said, with a smile. For the first timeI noticed that she was wearing a large bunch of them. "You will bebankrupt, Mr. Smart, if you keep on buying roses and violets and orchidsfor me. "

So the roses were mine also! I shot a swift glance at the mantelpiece, irresistibly moved by some mysterious force. There were two bowls oforchids there. I couldn't help thinking of the meddling, over-zealousgeni that served the hero of Anstey's "Brass Bottle" tale. He was beingoutdone by my efficacious secretary. 

"But they are lovely, " she cried, noting the expression in my face andmisconstruing it. "You are an angel. "

That was the last straw. "I am nothing of the sort, " I exclaimed, veryhot and uncomfortable. 

"You _are_, " was her retort. "There! Isn't it a lovely centre-piece?Now, you must come and see Rosemary. She adores the new elephant yousent to her. "

"Ele--" I began, blinking my eyes. "Oh--oh, yes, yes. Ha, ha! theelephant. " Good Heavens, had that idiotic Poopendyke started a menageriein my castle?

I was vastly relieved to find that the elephant was made of felt andnot too large to keep Rosemary from wielding it skilfully in an assaultupon the hapless Jinko. She had it firmly gripped by the proboscis, and she was shrieking with delight. Jinko was barking in vain-gloriousdefence. The racket was terrible. 

The Countess succeeded in quelling the disturbance, and Rosemary ranup to kiss me. Jinko, who disliked me because I looked like the Count, also ran up but his object was to bite me. I made up my mind, thereand then that if I should ever, by any chance, fall in love with hismistress I would inaugurate the courting period by slaying Jinko. 

Rosemary gleefully permitted me to sip honey from that warm littlespot on her neck, and I forgot many odious things. As I held her inmy arms I experienced a vivid longing to have a child of my own, justlike Rosemary. 

Our luncheon was not as gay nor as unconventional as others that hadpreceded it. The Countess vainly tried to make it as sprightly as itspredecessors, but gave over in despair in the face of my taciturnity. Her spirits drooped. She became strangely uneasy and, I thought, preoccupied. 

"What is on your mind, Countess?" I asked rather gruffly, after apainful silence of some duration. 

She regarded me fixedly for a moment. She seemed to be searching mythoughts. "You, " she said very succinctly. "Why are you so quiet, sofunereal?" I observed a faint tinge of red in her cheeks and an ominoussteadiness in her gaze. Was there anger also?

I apologised for my manners, and assured her that my work wasresponsible. But her moodiness increased. At last, apparently at theend of her resources, she announced that she was tired: that after wehad had a cigarette she would ask to be excused, as she wanted to liedown. Would I come to see her the next day?

"But don't think of coming, Mr. Smart, " she declared, "if you feel youcannot spare the time away from your work. "

I began to feel heartily ashamed of my boorishness. After all, whyshould I expend my unpleasant humour on her?

"My dear Countess, " I exclaimed, displaying a livelier interest thanat any time before, "I shall be delighted to come. Permit me to addthat my work may go hang. "

Her face brightened. "But men must work, " she objected. 

"Not when women are willing to play, " I said. 

"Splendid!" she cried. "You are reviving. I feel better. If you aregoing to be nice, I'll let you stay. "

"Thanks. I'll do my best. "

She seemed to be weighing something in her mind. Her chin was in herhands, her elbows resting on the edge of the table. She was regardingme with speculative eyes. 

"If you don't mind what the servants are saying about us, Mr. Smart, I am quite sure I do not. "

I caught my breath. 

"Oh, I understand everything, " she cried mischievously, before I couldstammer anything in reply. "They are building a delightful romancearound us. And why not? Why begrudge them the pleasure? No harm cancome of it, you see. "

"Certainly no harm, " I floundered. 

"The gossip is confined to the castle. It will not go any farther. Wecan afford to laugh in our sleeves, can't we?"

"Ha, ha!" I laughed in a strained effort, but not into my sleeve. "Irejoice to hear you say that you don't mind. No more do I. It's ratherjolly. "

"Fancy any one thinking we could possibly fall in love with each other, "she scoffed. Her eyes were very bright. There was a suggestion of coldwater in that remark. 

"Yes, just fancy, " I agreed. 

"Absurd!"

"But, of course, as you say, if they can get any pleasure out of it, why should we object? It's a difficult matter keeping a cook any way. "

"Well, we are bosom friends once more, are we not? I am so relieved. "

"I suppose Poopendyke told you the--the gossip?"

"Oh, no! I had it from my maid. She is perfectly terrible. All Frenchmaids are, Mr. Smart. Beware of French maids! She won't have it anyother way than that I am desperately in love with you. Isn't shedelicious?"

"Eh?" I gasped. 

"And she confides the wonderful secret to every one in the castle, from Rosemary down to Jinko. "

"'Pon my soul!" I murmured. 

"And so now they all are saying that I am in love with you, " shelaughed. "Isn't it perfectly ludicrous?"

"Perfectly, " I said without enthusiasm. My heart sank like lead. Ludicrous? Was that the way it appeared to her? I had a little spiritleft. "Quite as ludicrous as the fancy Britton has about me. He isobsessed by the idea that I am in love with you. What do you think ofthat?"

She started. I thought her eyes narrowed for a second. "Ridiculous, "she said, very simply. Then she arose abruptly. "Please ring the bellfor Hawkes. "

I did so. Hawkes appeared. "Clear the table, Hawkes, " she said. "Iwant you to read all these newspaper clippings, Mr. Smart, " she wenton, pointing to a bundle on a chair near the window. We crossed theroom. "Now that you know who I am, I insist on your reading all thatthe papers have been saying about me during the past five or six weeks. "

I protested but she was firm. "Every one else in the world has beenreading about my affairs, so you must do likewise. No, it isn'tnecessary to read all of them. I will select the most lurid and themost glowing. You see there are two sides to the case. The papers thatfather can control are united in defending my action; the Europeanpress is just the other way. Sit down, please. I'll hand them to you. "

For an hour I sat there in the window absorbing the astonishing historyof the Tarnowsy abduction case. I felt rather than observed the intensescrutiny with which she favoured me. 

At last she tossed the remainder of the bundle unread, into a corner. Her face was aglow with pleasure. 

"You've read both sides, and I've watched you--oh, so closely. Youdon't believe what the papers over here have to say. I saw the scowlswhen you read the translations that Mr. Poopendyke has typed for me. Now I know that you do not feel so bitterly toward me as you did atfirst. "

I was resolved to make a last determined stand for my originalconvictions. 

"But our own papers, the New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicagojournals, --still voice, in a way, my principal contention in the matter, Countess. They deplore the wretched custom among the idle but ambitiousrich that made possible this whole lamentable state of affairs. I meanthe custom of getting a title into the family at any cost. "

"My dear Mr. Smart, " she said seriously, "do you really contend thatall of the conjugal unhappiness and unrest of the world is confinedto the American girls who marry noblemen? Has it escaped your noticethat there are thousands of unhappy marriages and equally happy divorcesin America every year in which noblemen do not figure at all? Have younot read of countless cases over there in which conditions are quitesimilar to those which make the Tarnowsy fiasco so notorious? Are notAmerican women stealing their children from American husbands? Are allAmerican husbands so perfect that Count Tarnowsy would appear blackamong them? Are there no American men who marry for money, and arethere no American girls given in marriage to wealthy suitors of allages, creeds and habits? Why do you maintain that an unfortunatealliance with a foreign nobleman is any worse than an unhappy marriagewith an ordinary American brute? Are there no bad husbands in America?"

"All husbands are bad, " I said, "but some are more pre-eminently evilthan others. I am not finding fault with Tarnowsy as a husband. He didjust what was expected of him. He did what he set out to do. He isn'tto be blamed for living up to his creed. There are bad husbands inAmerica, and bad wives. But they went into the game blindly, most ofthem. They didn't find out their mistake until after the marriage. Thesame statement applies to husbands and wives the world over. I holda brief only against the marriage wherein the contracting parties, their families, their friends, their enemies, their bankers and theircreditors know beforehand that it's a business proposition and not asacred compact. But we've gone into all this before. Why rake it upagain. "

"But there are many happy marriages between American girls and foreignnoblemen--dozens of them that I could mention. "

"I grant you that. I know of a few myself. But I think if you willreflect for a moment you'll find that money had no place in thecovenant. They married because they loved one another. The noblemenin such cases are _real_ noblemen, and their American wives are _real_wives. There are no Count Tarnowsys among them. My blood curdles when Ithink of _you_ being married to a man of the Tarnowsy type. It is thatsort of a marriage that I execrate. "

"The buy and sell kind?" she said, and her eyes fell. The colour hadfaded from her cheeks. 

"Yes. The premeditated murder type. "

She looked up after a moment. There was a bleak expression in her eyes. 

"Will you believe me if I say to you that I went into it blindly?"

"God bless my soul, I am sure of it, " I cried earnestly. "You had neverbeen in love. You did not know. "

"I have told you that I believed myself to be in love with Maris. Doesn't--doesn't that help matters a little bit?"

I looked away. The hurt, appealing look was in her eyes. It had comeat last, and, upon my soul, I was as little prepared to repel it aswhen I entered the room hours ago after having lived in fear of it forhours before that. I looked away because I knew that I should dosomething rash if I were to lose my head for an instant. 

She was like an unhappy pleading child. I solemnly affirm that it wastender-heartedness that moved me in this crucial instant. What mancould have felt otherwise?

I assumed a coldly impersonal tone. "Not a single editorial in any ofthese papers holds you responsible for what happened in New York, " Isaid. 

She began to collect the scattered newspaper clippings and thetype-written transcriptions. I gathered up those in the corner andlaid them in her lap. Her fingers trembled a little. 

"Throw them in the fireplace, please, " she said in a low voice. "Ikept them only for the purpose of showing them to you. Oh, how I hate, how I loathe it all!"

When I came back from the fireplace, she was lying back in the big, comfortable chair, a careless, whimsical smile on her lips. She wasas serene as if she had never known what it was to have a heart-pangor an instant of regret in all her life. I could not understand thatside of her. 

"And now I have some pleasant news for you, " she said. "My mother willbe here on Thursday. You will not like her, of course, because you arealready prejudiced, but I know she will like you. "

I knew I should hate her mother, but of course it would not do to sayso. 

"Next Thursday?" I inquired. She nodded her head. "I hope she willlike me, " I added feeling that it was necessary. 

"She was a Colingraft, you know. "

"Indeed?" The Colingraft family was one of the oldest and most exclusivein New York. I had a vague recollection of hearing one of my fastidiousfriends at home say that it must have been a bitter blow to theColingrafts when, as an expedient, she married the vulgarly rich JasperTitus, then of St. Paul, Minnesota. It had been a clear case of marryingthe money, not the man. Aline's marriage, therefore, was due tohereditary cold-bloodedness and not to covetousness. "A fine old name, Countess. "

"Titus suggests titles, therefore it has come to be our family name, "she said, with her satiric smile. "You will like my father. He lovesme more than any one else in the world--more than all the world. Heis making the great fight for me, Mr. Smart. He would buy off the Countto-morrow if I would permit him to do so. Of late I have been thinkingvery seriously of suggesting it to him. It would be the simplest wayout of our troubles, wouldn't it? A million is nothing to my father. "

"Nothing at all, I submit, in view of the fact that it may be the meansof saving you from a term in prison for abducting Rosemary?"

She paled. "Do you really think they would put me in prison?"

"Unquestionably, " I pronounced emphatically. 

"Oh, dear!" she murmured. 

"But they can't lock you up until they've caught you, " said Ireassuringly. "And I will see to it that they do not catch you. "

"I--I am depending on you entirely, Mr. Smart, " she said anxiously. "Some day I may be in a position to repay you for all the kindness--"

"Please, please!"

"--and all the risk you are taking for me, " she completed. "You see, you haven't the excuse any longer that you don't know my name andstory. You are liable to be arrested yourself for--"

There came a sharp rapping on the door at this instant--a ratherimperative, sinister rapping, if one were to judge by the way we startedand the way we looked at each other. We laughed nervously. 

"Goodness! You'd thing Sherlock Holmes himself was at the door, " shecried. "See who it is, please. "

I went to the door. Poopendyke was there. He was visibly excited. 

"Can you come down at once, Mr. Smart?" he said in a voice not meantto reach the ears of the Countess. 

"What's up?" I questioned sharply. 

"The jig, I'm afraid, " he whispered sententiously. Poopendyke, beinga stenographer, never wasted words. He would have made a fineplaywright. 

"Good Lord! Detectives?"

"No. Count Tarnowsy and a stranger. "

"Impossible!"

The Countess, alarmed by our manner, quickly crossed the room. 

"What is it?" she demanded. 

"The Count is downstairs, " I said. "Don't be alarmed. Nothing canhappen. You--"

She laughed. "Oh, is that all? My dear Mr. Smart, he has come to seeyou about the frescoes. "

"But I have insulted him!"

"Not permanently, " she said. "I know him too well. He is like a leech. He has given you time to reflect and therefore regret your action ofthe other night. Go down and see him. "

Poopendyke volunteered further information. "There is also a man downthere--a cheap looking person--who says he must see the CountessTarnowsy at once. "

"A middle-aged man with the upper button of his waistcoat off?" sheasked sharply. 

"I--I can't say as to the button. "

"I am expecting one of my lawyers. It must be he. He was to have abutton off. "

"I'll look him over again, " said Poopendyke. 

"Do. And be careful not to let the Count catch a glimpse of him. Thatwould be fatal. "

"No danger of that. He went at once to old Conrad's room. "

"Good! I had a note from him this morning, Mr. Smart. He is Mr. Bangsof London. "

"May I inquire, Countess, how you manage to have letters delivered toyou here? Isn't it extremely dangerous to have them go through themails?"

"They are all directed to the Schmicks, " she explained. 

"They are passed on to me. Now go and see the Count. Don't lend himany money. "

"I shall probably kick him over the cliff, " I said, with a scowl. 

She laid her hand upon my arm. "Be careful, " she said very earnestly, "for my sake. "

Poopendyke had already started down the stairs. I raised her hand tomy lips. Then I rushed away, cursing myself for a fool, an ingrate, a presumptuous bounder. 

My uncalled-for act had brought a swift flush of anger to her cheek. I saw it quite plainly as she lowered her head and drew back into theshadow of the curtain. Bounder! That is what I was for taking advantageof her simple trust in me. Strange to say, she came to the head of thestairs and watched me until I was out of sight in the hall below. 

The Count was waiting for me in the loggia. It was quite warm and hefanned himself lazily with his broad straw hat. As I approached, hetossed his cigarette over the wall and hastened to meet me. There wasa quaint diffident smile on his lips. 

"It is good to see you again, old fellow, " he said, with an amiabilitythat surprised me. "I was afraid you might hold a grievance againstme. You Americans are queer chaps, you know. Our little tilt of theother evening, you understand. Stupid way for two grown-up men tobehave, wasn't it? Of course, the explanation is simple. We had beendrinking. Men do silly things in their cups. "

Consummate assurance! I had not touched a drop of anything that night. 

"I assure you, Count Tarnowsy, the little tilt, as you are pleased tocall it, was of no consequence. I had quite forgotten that it occurred. Sorry you reminded me of it. "

The irony was wasted. He beamed. "My dear fellow, shall we not shakehands?"

There _was_ something irresistibly winning about him, as I've saidbefore. Something boyish, ingenuous, charming, --what you will, --thatwent far toward accounting for many things that you who have never seenhim may consider incomprehensible. 

A certain wariness took possession of me. I could well afford totemporise. We shook hands with what seemed to be genuine fervour. 

"I suppose you are wondering what brings me here, " he said, as westarted toward the entrance to the loggia, his arm through mine. "Ido not forget a promise, Mr. Smart. You may remember that I agreed tofetch a man from Munchen to look over your fine old frescoes and togive you an estimate. Well, he is here, the very best man in Europe. "

"I am sure I am greatly indebted to you, Count, " I said, "but afterthinking it over I've--"

"Don't say that you have already engaged some one to do the work, " hecried, in horror. "My dear fellow, don't tell me _that_! You are certainto make a dreadful mistake if you listen to any one but Schwartzmuller. He is the last word in restorations. He is the best bet, as you wouldsay in New York. Any one else will make a botch of the work. You willcurse the day you--"

I checked him. "I have virtually decided to let the whole matter goover until next spring. However, I shall be happy to have Mr. Schwartzmuller's opinion. We may be able to plan ahead. "

A look of disappointment flitted across his face. The suggestion ofhard old age crept into his features for a second and then disappeared. 

"Delays are dangerous, " he said. "My judgment is that those gorgeouspaintings will disintegrate more during the coming winter than in allthe years gone by. They are at the critical stage. If not preservednow, --well, I cannot bear to think of the consequences. Ah, here isHerr Schwartzmuller. "

Just inside the door, we came upon a pompous yet servile German whocould not by any means have been mistaken for anything but the lastword in restoration. I have never seen any one in my life whoseappearance suggested a more complete state of rehabilitation. His frockcoat was new, it had the unfailing smell of new wool freshly dyed;his shoes were painfully new; his gloves were new; his silk hat wasresplendently new; his fat jowl was shaved to a luminous pink; hisgorgeous moustache was twisted up at the ends to such a degree thatwhen he smiled the points wavered in front of his eyes, causing himto blink with astonishment. He was undeniably dressed up for theoccasion. My critical eye, however, discovered a pair of well-wornstriped trousers badly stained, slightly frayed at the bottom andinclined to bag outward at the knee. Perhaps I should have said thathe was dressed up from the knee. 

"This is the great Herr Schwartzmuller, of the Imperial galleries inMunchen, " said the Count introducing us. 

The stranger bowed very profoundly and at the same time extracted abusiness card from the tail pocket of his coat. This he delivered tome with a smile which seemed to invite me to participate in a greatand serious secret: the secret of irreproachable standing as an artexpert and connoisseur. I confess to a mistaken impression concerninghim up to the moment he handed me his clumsy business card. Mysuspicions had set him down as a confederate of Count Tarnowsy, a spy, a secret agent or whatever you choose to consider one who is employedin furthering a secret purpose. But the business card removed my doubtsand misgivings. It stamped him for what he really was: there is nomistaking a German who hands you his business card. He destroys allpossible chance for discussion. 

In three languages the card announced that he was "AugustSchwartzmuller, of the Imperial galleries, Munchen, Zumpe &Schwartzmuller, proprietors. Restorations a specialty. " There was muchmore, but I did not have time to read all of it. Moreover, the cardwas a trifle soiled, as if it had been used before. There could be nodoubt as to his genuineness. He was an art expert. 

For ten minutes I allowed them to expatiate on the perils ofprocrastination in the treatment of rare old canvases and pigments, and then, having formulated my plans, blandly inquired what the costwould be. It appears that Herr Schwartzmuller had examined the frescoesno longer than six months before in the interests of a New Yorkgentleman to whom Count Hohendahl had tried to sell them for a lumpsum. He was unable to recall the gentleman's name. 

"I should say not more than one hundred and fifty thousand marks, perhaps less, " said the expert, rolling his calculative eye upward andrunning it along the vast dome of the hall as if to figure it out inyards and inches. 

The Count was watching me with an eager light in his eyes. He lookedaway as I shot a quick glance at his face. The whole matter became asclear as day to me. He was to receive a handsome commission if thecontract was awarded. No doubt his share would be at least half of theamount stipulated. I had reason to believe that the work could beperformed at a profit for less than half the figure mentioned by theGerman. 

"Nearly forty thousand dollars, in other words, " said I reflectively. 

"They are worth ten times that amount, sir, " said the expert gravely. 

I smiled skeptically. The Count took instant alarm. He realised thatI was not such a fool as I looked, perhaps. 

"Hohendahl was once offered two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Mr. Smart, " he said. 

"Why didn't he accept it?" I asked bluntly. "He sold the whole placeto me, contents included, for less than half that amount. "

"It was years ago, before he was in such dire straits, " he explainedquickly. 

A terrible suspicion entered my head. I felt myself turn cold. If thefrescoes were genuine they were worth all that Schwartzmuller declared;that being the case why should Hohendahl have let them come to me forpractically nothing when there were dozens of collectors who wouldhave paid him the full price? I swallowed hard, but managed to controlmy voice, "As a matter of fact, Count Tarnowsy, " I said, resorting to unworthymeans, "I have every reason to believe that Hohendahl sold the originalssometime ago, and had them replaced on the ceilings by cleverimitations. They are not worth the canvas they are painted on. "

He started. I intercepted the swift look of apprehension that passedfrom him to the stolid Schwartzmuller, whose face turned a shade redder. 

"Impossible!" cried Tarnowsy sharply. 

"By no means impossible, " I said calmly, now sure of my ground. "Tobe perfectly frank with you, I've known from the beginning that theyare fakes. Your friend, Count Hohendahl, is nobler than you give himcredit for being. He confessed to me at the time our transaction tookplace that the frescoes were very recent reproductions. The originals, I think, are in London or New York. " I saw guilt in the face of HerrSchwartzmuller. His moustaches drooped with the corners of his mouth;he did not seem to be filling out the frock coat quite so completelyas when I first beheld him. A shrewd suspicion impelled me to takechances on a direct accusation. I looked straight into the German'seyes and said: "Now that I come to think of it, I am sure he mentionedthe name of Schwartzmuller in connection with the--"

"It is not true! It is not true!" roared the expert, without waitingfor me to finish. "He lied to you, we--the great firm of Zumpe &Schwartzmuller--we could not be tempted with millions to do such athing. "

I went a step farther in my deductions. Somehow I had grasped thetruth: this pair deliberately hoped to swindle me out of forty thousanddollars. They knew the frescoes were imitations and yet they wereurging me to spend a huge sum of money in restoring canvases that hadbeen purposely made to look old and flimsy in order to deceive a morecautious purchaser than I. But, as I say, I went a step farther andDeliberately accused Count Tarnowsy. 

"Moreover, Count Tarnowsy, you are fully aware of all this. "

"My dear fellow, --"

"I'll not waste words. You are a damned scoundrel!"

He measured the distance with his eye and then sprang swiftly forward, striking blindly at my face. 

I knocked him down!

Schwartzmuller was near the door, looking over his shoulder as he feltfor the great brass knob. 

"Mein Gott!" he bellowed. 

"Stop!" I shouted. "Come back here and take this fellow away with you!"

Tarnowsy was sitting up, looking about him in a dazed, bewilderedmanner. 

At that moment, Poopendyke came running down the stairs, attracted bythe loud voices. He was followed closely by three or four wide-eyedglaziers who were working on the second floor. 

"In the name of heaven, sir!"

"I've bruised my knuckles horribly, " was all that I said. I seemed tobe in a sort of a daze myself. I had never knocked a man down beforein my life. It was an amazingly easy thing to do. I could hardly believethat I had done it. 

Tarnowsy struggled to his feet and faced me, quivering with rage. Iwas dumbfounded to see that he was not covered with blood. But he wasof a light, yellowish green. I could scarcely believe my eyes. 

"You shall pay for this!" he cried. The tears rushed to his eyes. "Coward! Beast! To strike a defenceless man!"

His hand went swiftly to his breast pocket, and an instant later asmall revolver flashed into view. It was then that I did another strangeand incomprehensible thing. With the utmost coolness I stepped forwardand wrested it from his hand. I say strange and incomprehensible forthe reason that he was pointing it directly at my breast and yet I hadnot the slightest sensation of fear. He could have shot me like a dog. I never even thought of that. 

"None of that!" I cried sharply. "Now, will you be good enough to getout of this house--and stay out?"

"My seconds will call on you--"

"And they will receive just what you have received. If you or any ofyour friends presume to trespass on the privacy of these grounds ofmine, I'll kick the whole lot of you into the Danube. Hawkes! Eithershow or lead Count Tarnowsy to the gates. As for you, Mr. Schwartzmuller, I shall expose--"

But the last word in restorations had departed. 

CHAPTER XIV

I AM FORCED INTO BEING A HERO

My humblest apologies, dear reader, if I have led you to suspect thatI want to be looked upon as a hero. Far from patting myself on theback or holding my chin a little higher because of the set-to in mybaronial halls, I confess to a feeling of shame. In my study, wherethe efficient Blatchford put arnica and bandages on my swollen knuckles, I solemnly declared in the presence of those who attended theclinic--(my entire establishment was there to see that I had the properattention and to tell me how happy they were that it wasn't anyworse)--I say, I declared to all of them that I was an unmitigatedfool and undeserving of the slightest mead of praise. 

They insisted upon making a hero of me, and might have succeeded, hadnot the incomparable Britton made the discovery that the Count'srevolver was not loaded! Still, they vociferated, I could not haveknown that at the time of the encounter, nor was it at all likely thatthe Count knew it himself. 

I confess to an inward and shameless glory, however, in the realisationthat I had been able to punch the head of the man who had lived withand abused that lovely creature upstairs. He had struck her on morethan one occasion, I had it from her own lips. Far worse than that, he had kissed her! But of course I had not knocked him down for that. I did it because it was simpler than being knocked down myself. 

The worst feature of the whole unhappy business was the effect it waslikely to have upon my commonly pacific nature. Heretofore I had avoidedphysical encounters, not because I was afraid of the result, but becauseI hate brutal, unscientific manifestations of strength. Now, to mysurprise, I found that it was a ridiculously easy matter to knock aman down and end the squabble in short order, thereby escaping a greatdeal in the shape of disgusting recriminations, and coming offvictorious with nothing more vital in the way of wounds than a coupleof bruised knuckles. (No doubt, with practice, one could even avoidhaving his knuckles barked. )

Was it not probable, therefore, that my habitual tendency to turn awaywrath with a soft answer might suffer a more or less sanguinary shock?Now that I had found out how simple it was, would I not be satisfiedto let my good right hand settle disputes for me--with uniformcertainty and despatch? Heaven is my witness that I have no desire tobe regarded as a bruiser. I hope that it may never fall to my lot toagain knock a man down. But if it should be necessary, I also wish torecord the hope that the man may be a husband who has mistreated hiswife. 

In the course of Blatchford's ministrations I was regaled with eloquentdescriptions of the manner in which my late adversary took his departurefrom the castle. He went forth vowing vengeance, calling down upon myhead all the maledictions he could lay his tongue to, and darklythreatening to have me driven out of the country. I was not to expecta call from his seconds. He would not submit his friends to theindignities they were sure to encounter at the hands of a barbarianof my type. But, just the same, I would hear from him. I would regretthe day, etc. , etc. 

I had forgotten Mr. Bangs, the lawyer. Sitting alone in my study, latein the afternoon, smoking a solitary pipe of peace, I remembered him:the man with the top button off. What had become of him? His presence(or, more accurately, his absence) suddenly loomed up before me as theforerunner of an unwelcome invasion of my preserves. He was, no doubt, a sort of advance agent for the Titus family and its immediateramifications. 

Just as I was on the point of starting out to make inquiries concerninghim, there came to my ears the sound of tapping on the back of RedLudwig's portrait. Not until then did it occur to me that I had beenwaiting for two hours for that simple manifestation of interest andcuriosity from the regions above. 

I rushed over and rapped resoundingly upon Ludwig's pudgy knee. Thenext instant there was a click and then the secret door swung open, revealing the eager, concerned face of my neighbour. 

"What has happened?" she cried. 

I lifted her out of the frame. Her gaze fell upon the bandaged fist. 

"Mr. Bangs spoke of a pistol. Don't tell me that he--he shot you!"

I held up my swollen hand rather proudly. It smelled vilely of arnica. 

"This wound was self-inflicted, my dear Countess, " I said, thrilledby her expression of concern. "I had the exquisite pleasure--andpain--of knocking your former husband down. "

"Oh, splendid!" she cried, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Mr. Bangs was rather hazy about it, and he would not let me risktelephoning. You knocked Maris down?"

"Emphatically, " said I. 

She mused. "I think it is the first time it has ever happened to him. How--how did he like it?"

"It appeared to prostrate him. "

She smiled understandingly. "I am glad you did it, Mr. Smart. "

"If I remember correctly, you once said that he had struck you, Countess. "

Her face flushed. "Yes. On three separate occasions he struck me inthe face with his open hand. I--I testified to that effect at thetrial. Every one seemed to look upon it as a joke. He swore that theywere--were love pats. "

"I hope his lack of discrimination will not lead him to believe thatI was delivering a love pat, " said I, grimly. 

"Now, tell me everything that happened, " she said, seating herself inmy big armchair. Her feet failed to touch the floor. She was wearingthe little tan pumps. 

When I came to that part of the story where I accused Tarnowsy ofduplicity in connection with the frescoes, she betrayed intenseexcitement. 

"Of course it was all a bluff on my part, " I explained. 

"But you were nearer the truth than you thought, " she said, compressingher lips. After a moment she went on: "Count Hohendahl sold theoriginals over three years ago. I was here with Maris at the time ofthe transaction and when the paintings were removed. Maris acted asan intermediary in the deal. Hohendahl received two hundred thousanddollars for the paintings, but they were worth it. I have reason tobelieve that Maris had a fourth of the amount for his commission. So, you see, you were right in your surmise. "

"The infernal rascal! Where are the originals, Countess?"

"They are in my father's villa at Newport, " she said. "I intendedspeaking of this to you before, but I was afraid your pride would behurt. Of course, I should have spoken if it came to the point whereyou really considered having those forgeries restored. "

"Your father bought them?"

"Yes. While we were spending our honeymoon here in Schloss Rothhoefen, Mr. Smart, " she said. Her face was very pale. 

I could see that the dark associations filled her mind, and abruptlyfinished my tale without further reference to the paintings. 

"He will challenge you, " she said nervously. "I am so sorry to haveplaced you in this dreadful position, Mr. Smart. I shall never forgivemyself for--"

"You are in no way concerned in what happened to-day, " I interrupted. "It was a purely personal affair. Moreover, he will not challenge me. "

"He has fought three duels, " she said. "He is not a physical coward. "Her dark eyes were full of dread. 

I hesitated. "Would you be vitally interested in the outcome of suchan affair?" I asked. My voice was strangely husky. 

"Oh, how can you ask?"

"I mean, on Rosemary's account, " I stammered. "He--he is her father, you see. It would mean--"

"I was not thinking of the danger to him, Mr. Smart, " she said simply. 

"But can't you see how dreadful it would be if I were to kill Rosemary'sfather?" I cried, completely forgetting myself. "Can't you see?"

A slow flush mounted to her brow. "That is precisely what I wasthinking, Mr. Smart. It would be--unspeakably dreadful. "

I stood over her. My heart was pounding heavily. She must have seenthe peril that lay in my eyes, for she suddenly slipped out of thechair and faced me, the flush dying in her cheek, leaving it as paleas ivory. 

"You must not say anything more, Mr. Smart, " she said gently. 

A bitter smile came to my lips, and I drew back with a sickening senseof realisation. There _was_ nothing more to be said. But I nowthoroughly understood one thing: I was in love with her!... 

I am something of a philosopher. I submit that my attitude at the timeof my defeat at the hands of the jeweller's clerk proves the pointconclusively. If I failed at that time to inspire feelings of love inthe breast of a giddy stenographer, what right had I to expect anythingbetter from the beautiful Countess Tarnowsy, whose aspirations leftnothing to the imagination? While she was prone to chat without visiblerestraint at this significantly trying moment, I, being a philosopher, remained silent and thoughtful. Quite before I knew it, I was myselfagain: a steady, self-reliant person who could make the best of asituation, who could take his medicine like a man. Luckily, the medicinewas not so bitter as it might have been if I had made a vulgar, impassioned display of my emotions. Thank heaven, I had _that_ to bethankful for. 

She was speaking of the buttonless lawyer, Mr. Bangs. "He is waitingto see you this evening, Mr. Smart, to discuss ways and means of gettingmy mother and brothers into the castle without discovery by the spieswho are undoubtedly watching their every move. "

I drew in another long, deep breath. "It seems to me that the thingcannot be done. The risk is tremendous. Why not head her off?"

"Head her off? You do not know my mother, Mr. Smart. She has made upher mind that her place is here with me, and there isn't anything inthe world that can--head her off, as you say. "

"But surely _you_ see the danger?"

"I do. I have tried to stop her. Mr. Bangs has tried to stop her. Sohas father. But she is coming. We must arrange something. "

I was pacing the floor in front of her. She had resumed her place inthe chair. 

"My deepest regret, Countess, lies in the fact that our little visitswill be--well, at an end. Our delightful little suppers and--"

"Oh, but think of the comfort it will be to you, not having me on yourmind all of the time. I shall not be lonesome, I shall not be afraid, I shall not be forever annoying you with selfish demands upon yourgood nature. You will have time to write without interruption. It willbe for the best. "

"No, " said I, positively. "They were jolly parties, and I shall missthem. "

She looked away quickly. "And, if all goes well, I shall soon be safelyon my way to America. Then you will be rid of me completely. "

I was startled. "You mean that there is a plan afoot to--to smuggleyou out of the country?"

"Yes. And I fear I shall have to trouble you again when it comes tothat. You must help me, Mr. Smart. "

I nodded slowly. Help her to get away? I hadn't thought of that lately. The prospect left me rather cold and sick. 

"I'll do all that I can, Countess. "

She smiled faintly, but I was certain that I detected a challenge, --arather unkind challenge, --in her eyes. "You will come to see me in NewYork, of course. "

I shook my head. "I am afraid we are counting our chickens beforethey're hatched. One or the other of us may be in jail for the nextfew years. "

"Heavens!"

"But I'll come to see you in New York, if you'll let me, " I cried, trying to repair the damage I had done. "I was jesting when I spokeof jail. "

Her brow was puckered in thought. "It has just occurred to me, my dearfriend, that even if I do get safely away, you will be left here toface the consequences. When it becomes known that you sheltered me, the authorities may make it extremely uncomfortable for you. "

"I'm not worrying about that. "

"Just the same, it is something to worry about, " she said, seriously. "Now, here is what I have had in mind for a long, long time. Why don'tyou come with me when I leave? That will be the safest plan. "

"You are not in earnest!"

"Assuredly. The plan is something like this: I am to be taken by slowstages, overland, to a small Mediterranean port. One of a half-dozenAmerican yachts now cruising the sea will be ready to pick me up. Doesn't it seem simple?"

"It seems simple enough, " said I. "But there are a lot of 'ifs' betweenhere and the little port you hope to reach. It will not be an easymatter to manage the successful flight of a party as large as yourswill be. "

"Oh, " she cried, "I shall be quite alone, except for Rosemary andBlake, --and Mr. Bangs. "

"But your mother? You can't leave her here. "

"You will have to smuggle her out of the castle a day or two in advance. It is all thought out, Mr. Smart. "

"By Jove!" I exclaimed, with more irascibility than I intended to show. "If I succeed in doing all that is expected of me, I certainly willbe entitled to more than an invitation to come and see you in NewYork. "

She arose and laid her fingers upon my bandaged hand. The recklesslight had died out of her eyes. 

"I have thought that out, too, Mr. Smart, " she said, quietly. "Andnow, good-bye. You will come up to see Mr. Bangs to-night?"

Considerably mystified by her remark, I said I would come, and thenassisted her through the opening in the wall. She smiled back at meas the portrait swung into place. 

What did she mean? Was it possible that she meant to have old man Titusreward me in a pecuniary way? The very thought of such a thing causedme to double up my fist--my recently discovered fist!--and to swearsoftly under my breath. After a few moments I was conscious of a fiercepain in the back of my hand. 

 * * * * * *

Bangs was a shrewd little Englishman. As I shook hands with him--usingmy left hand with a superfluous apology--I glanced at the top of hiswaistcoat. There was no button missing. 

"The Countess sewed it on for me, " he said drily, reading my thoughts. 

I stayed late with them, discussing plans. He had strongly advisedagainst any attempt on Mrs. Titus's part to enter her daughter'shiding-place, but had been overruled. I conceived the notion, too, that he was a very strong-minded man. What then must have been thestrength of Mrs. Titus's resolution to overcome the objections he putin her way?

He, too, had thought it all out. Everybody seems to have thoughteverything out with a single exception, --myself. His plan was not abad one. Mrs. Titus and her sons were to enter the castle under coverof night, and I was to meet them in an automobile at a town some fifteenkilometers away, where they would leave the train while their watcherswere asleep, and bring them overland to Schloss Rothhoefen. They wouldbe accompanied by a single lady's maid and no luggage. A charteredmotor boat would meet us up the river a few miles, and--well, it lookedvery simple! All that was required of me was a willingness to addressher as "Mother" and her sons as "brothers" in case there were anyquestions asked. 

This was Tuesday. They were coming on Thursday, and the train reachedthe station mentioned at half-past twelve at night. So you will seeit was a jolly arrangement. 

I put Mr. Bangs up in my best guest-chamber, and, be it said to mycredit, the Countess did not have to suggest it to me. As we said goodnight to her on the little landing at the top of the stairs, she tookmy bandaged paw between her two little hands and said:

"You will soon be rid of me forever, Mr. Smart. Will you bear with mepatiently for a little while longer?" There was a plaintive, appealingnote in her voice. She seemed strangely subdued. 

"I can bear with you much easier than I can bear the thought of beingrid of you, " I said in a very low voice. She pressed my clumsy handfiercely, and I felt no pain. 

"You have been too good to me, " she said in a very small voice. "Someday, when I am out of all this trouble, I may be able to tell you howmuch I appreciate all you have done for me. "

An almost irresistible--I was about to say ungovernable--impulse toseize her in my arms came over me, but I conquered it and rushed afterMr. Bangs, as blind as a bat and reeling for a dozen steps or more. It was a most extraordinary feeling. 

I found myself wondering if passion had that effect on all men. Ifthis was an illustration of what a real passionate love could do toa sensible, level-headed person, then what, in heaven's name, was theemotion I had characterised as love during my placid courtship of thefaintly remembered typewriter? There had been no such blinding, staggering sensation as this. No thoughts of physical contact with myformer inamorata had left me weak and trembling and dazed as I was atthis historic moment. 

Bangs was chattering in his glib English fashion as we descended tomy study, but I did not hear half that he said. He looked surprisedat two or three of the answers I made to his questions, and I am surethere were several of them that I didn't respond to at all. He musthave thought me an unmannerly person. 

One remark of his brought me rather sharply to my senses. I seemedcapable of grasping its awful significance when all the others hadgone by without notice. 

"If all goes well, " he was saying, "she should be safely away fromhere on the fourteenth. That leaves less than ten days more, sir, underyour hospitable roof. "

"Less than ten days, " I repeated. This was the fifth of the month. "Ifall goes well. Less than ten days. "

Again I passed a sleepless night. A feeling of the utmost lonelinessand desolation grew up within me. Less than ten days! And then shewould be "safely away" from me. She and Rosemary! There was a singleray of brightness in the gloom that shrouded my thoughts: she had urgedme to fly away with her. She did not want to leave me behind to facethe perils after she was safely out of them. God bless her for thinkingof that!

But of course what little common sense and judgment I had left withinme told me that such a course was entirely out of the question. I couldnot go away with her. I could do no more than to see her safely on herway to the queer little port on the east coast of Italy. Then I shouldreturn to my bleak, joyless castle, --to my sepulchre, --and suffer allthe torments of the damned for days and weeks until word came that shewas actually safe on the other side of the Atlantic. 

What courage, what pluck she had! Criminal? No, a thousand times, no!She was claiming her own, her dearest own. The devil must have beenin the people who set themselves up as judges to condemn her forfighting so bravely for that which God had given her. Curse them all!... I fear that my thoughts became more and more maudlin as theinterminable night went on. 

Always they came back to the sickening realisation that I was to loseher in ten days, and that my castle would be like a tomb. 

Of course the Hazzards and the Billy Smiths were possible panaceas, but what could they bring to ease the pangs of a secret nostalgia?Nothing but their own blissful contentment, their own happiness tomake my loneliness seem all the more horrible by contrast. Would itnot be better for me to face it alone? Would it not be better to livethe life of a hermit?

She came to visit me at twelve o'clock the next day. I was alone inthe study. Poopendyke was showing Mr. Bangs over the castle. 

She was dressed in a gown of some soft grey material, and there wasa bunch of violets at her girdle. 

"I came to dress your hand for you, " she said as I helped her downfrom Red Ludwig's frame. 

Now I have neglected to mention that the back of my hand was swollento enormous proportions, an unlovely thing. 

"Thank you, " I said, shaking my head; "but it is quite all right. Britton attended to it this morning. It is good of you to think aboutit, Countess. It isn't--"

"I thought about it all night, " she said, and I could believe her afterthe light from the windows had fallen upon her face. There were darkcircles under her eyes and she was quite pale. Her eyes seemedabnormally large and brilliant. "I am so sorry not to be able to doone little thing for you. Will you not let me dress it after this?"

I coloured. "Really, it--it is a most trifling bruise, " I explained, "just a little black and blue, that's all. Pray do not think of itagain. "

"You will never let me do anything for you, " she said. Her eyes werevelvety. "It isn't fair. I have exacted so much from you, and--"

"And I have been most brutal and unfeeling in many of the things Ihave said to you, " said I, despairingly. "I am ashamed of the nastywounds I have given you. My state of repentance allows you to exactwhatsoever you will of me, and, when all is said and done, I shallstill be your debtor. Can you--will you pardon the coarse opinions ofa conceited ass? I assure you I am not the man I was when you firstencountered me. "

She smiled. "For that matter, I am not the same woman I was, Mr. Smart. You have taught me three things, one of which I may mention: thesubjection of self. That, with the other two, has made a new AlineTitus of me. I hope you may be pleased with the--transfiguration. "

"I wish you were Aline Titus, " I said, struck by the idea. 

"You may at least be sure that I shall not remain the Countess Tarnowsylong, Mr. Smart, " she said, with a very puzzling expression in hereyes. 

My heart sank. "But I remember hearing you say not so very long agothat you would never marry again, " I railed. 

She regarded me rather oddly for a moment. "I am very, very glad thatyou are such a steady, sensible, practical man. A vapid, impressionableyouth, during this season of propinquity, might have been so foolishas to fall in love with me, and that would have been too bad. "

I think I glared at her. "Then, --then, you are going to marry someone?"

She waited a moment, looking straight into my eyes. 

"Yes, " she said, and a delicate pink stole into her cheek, "I am goingto marry some one. "

I muttered something about congratulating a lucky dog, but it was allvery hazy to me. 

"Don't congratulate him yet, " she cried, the flush deepening. "I maybe a very, very great disappointment to him, and a never-endingnuisance. "

"I'm sure you will--will be all right, " I floundered. Then I resortedto gaiety. "You see, I've spent a lot of time trying to--to make anotherwoman of you, and so I'm confident he'll find you quite satisfactory. "

She laughed gaily. "What a goose you are!" she cried. 

I flushed painfully, for, I give you my word, it hurt to have her laughat me. She sobered at once. 

"Forgive me, " she said very prettily, and I forgave her. "Do you knowwe've never given the buried treasure another thought?" she went on, abruptly changing the subject. "Are we not to go searching for it?"

"But it isn't there, " said I, steeling my heart against the longingthat tried to creep into it. "It's all balderdash. "

She pouted her warm red lips. "Have you lost interest in it so soon?"

"Of course, I'll go any time you say, " said I, lifelessly. "It willbe a lark, at all events. "

"Then we will go this very afternoon, " she said, with enthusiasm. 

My ridiculous heart gave a great leap. "This very afternoon, " I said, managing my voice very well. 

She arose. "Now I must scurry away. It would not do for Mr. Bangs tofind me here with you. He would be shocked. "

I walked beside her to the chair that stood below the portrait ofLudwig the Red, and took her hand to assist her in stepping upon it. 

"I sincerely hope this chap you're going to marry, Countess, may bethe best fellow in the world, " said I, still clasping her hand. 

She had one foot on the chair as she half-turned to face me. 

"He is the best fellow in the world, " she said. 

I gulped. "I can't tell you how happy I shall be if you--if you findreal happiness. You deserve happiness--and love. "

She gripped my hand fiercely. "I want to be happy! I want to be loved!Oh, I want to be loved!" she cried, so passionately that I turned away, unwilling to be a witness to this outburst of feeling on her part. Sheslipped her hand out of mine and a second later was through the frame. I had a fleeting glimpse of a slim, adorable ankle. "Good-bye, " shecalled back in a voice that seemed strangely choked. The spring in thegold mirror clicked. A draft of air struck me in the face. She wasgone. 

"What an infernal fool you've been, " I said to myself as I stood therestaring at the black hole in the wall. Then, I gently, even caressinglyswung old Ludwig the Red into place. There was another click. Theincident was closed. 

A very few words are sufficient to cover the expedition in quest ofthe legendary treasures of the long dead Barons. Mr. Bangs accompaniedus. Britton carried a lantern and the three Schmicks went along asguides. We found nothing but cobwebs. 

"Conrad, " said I, as we emerged from the last of the undergroundchambers, "tell me the truth: was there ever such a thing as buriedtreasure in this abominable hole?"

"Yes, mein herr, " he replied, with an apologetic grin; "but I thinkit was discovered three years ago by Count Hohendahl and CountTarnowsy. "

We stared at him. "The deuce you say!" cried I, with a quick glanceat the Countess. She appeared to be as much surprised as I. 

"They searched for a month, " explained the old man, guiltily. "Theyfound something in the walls of the second tier. I cannot say what itwas, but they were very, very happy, my lady. " He now addressed her. "It was at the time they went away and did not return for three weeks, if you remember the time. "

"Remember it!" she cried bitterly. "Too well, Conrad. " She turned tome. "We had been married less than two months, Mr. Smart. "

I smiled rather grimly. "Count Tarnowsy appears to have had a greatrun of luck in those days. " It was a mean remark and I regretted itinstantly. To my surprise she smiled--perhaps patiently--and immediatelyafterward invited Mr. Bangs and me to dine with her that evening. Shealso asked Mr. Poopendyke later on. 

 * * * * * * *

Poopendyke! An amazing, improbable idea entered my head. _Poopendyke!_

 * * * * * * *

The next day I was very busy, preparing for the journey by motor tothe small station down the line where I was to meet Mrs. Titus and hersons. It seemed to me that every one who knew anything whatever aboutthe arrangements went out of his way to fill my already rattle-brainedhead with advice. I was advised to be careful at least one hundredtimes; first in regard to the running of the car, then as to roaddirections, then as to the police, then as to the identity of the partyI was to pick up; but more often than anything else, I was urged tobe as expeditious as possible and to look out for my tires. 

In order to avoid suspicion, I rented a big German touring car for awhole month, paying down a lump sum of twelve hundred marks in advance. On Thursday morning I took it out for a spin, driving it myself partof the time, giving the wheel to Britton the remainder. 

(The year before I had toured Europe pretty extensively in a car ofthe same make, driving alternately with Britton, who besides being anexcellent valet was a chauffeur of no mean ability, having served aLondon actress for two years or more, which naturally meant that he hadbeen required to do a little of everything. )

We were to keep the car in a garage across the river, drive itourselves, and pay for the up-keep. We were therefore quite free tocome and go as we pleased, without the remotest chance of beingquestioned. In fact, I intimated that I might indulge in a good bitof joy-riding if the fine weather kept up. 

Just before leaving the castle for the ferry trip across the riverthat evening, I was considerably surprised to have at least a dozenbrand new trunks delivered at my landing stage. It is needless to saythat they turned out to be the property of Mrs. Titus, expressed by_grande vitesse_ from some vague city in the north of Germany. They allbore the name "Smart, U. S. A. , " painted in large white letters on eachend, and I was given to understand that they belonged to my own dearmother, who at that moment, I am convinced, was sitting down to luncheonin the Adirondacks, provided her habits were as regular as I rememberedthem to be. 

I set forth with Britton at nine o'clock, in a drizzling rain. Therehad been no rain for a month. The farmers, the fruit-raisers, thegrowers of grapes and all the birds and beasts of the field had beenbegging for rain for weeks. No doubt they rejoiced in the steadydownpour that came at half-past nine, but what must have been theirjoy at ten when the very floodgates of heaven opened wide and let looseall the dammed waters of July and August (and perhaps some that wasbeing saved up for the approaching September!) I have never known itto rain so hard as it did on that Thursday night in August, nor haveI ever ceased reviling the fate that instituted, on the very next day, a second season of drought that lasted for nearly six weeks. 

But we went bravely through that terrible storm, Britton and I, andthe vehement Mercedes, up hill and down, over ruts and rocks, acrossbridges and under them, sozzling and swishing and splashing in thepath of great white lights that rushed ahead of us through the gloom. At half-past eleven o'clock we were skidding over the cobblestones ofthe darkest streets I have ever known, careening like a drunken sailorbut not half as surely, headed for the Staatsbahnhof, to which we hadbeen directed by an object in a raincoat who must have been a policemanbut who looked more like a hydrant. 

"Britton, " said I, wearily, "have you ever seen anything like it?"

"Once before, sir, " said he. "Niagara Falls, sir. "

 * * * * * * *

CHAPTER XV

I TRAVERSE THE NIGHT

We were drenched to the skin and bespattered with mud, cold andcheerless but full of a grim excitement. Across the street from thesmall, poorly lighted railway station there was an eating-house. Leavingthe car in the shelter of a freight shed, we sloshed through the shinyrivulet that raced between the curbs and entered the clean, unpretentious little restaurant. 

There was a rousing smell of roasted coffee pervading the place. Asleepy German waiter first came up and glanced sullenly at themud-tracks we left upon the floor; then he allowed his insulting gazeto trail our progress to the lunch counter by means of a perfect torrentof rain-water drippings. He went out of the room grumbling, to returna moment later with a huge mop. Thereupon he ordered us out of theplace, standing ready with the mop to begin the cleansing process theinstant we vacated the stools. It was quite clear to both of us thathe wanted to begin operations at the exact spot where we were standing. 

"Coffee for two, " said I, in German. To me anything uttered in theGerman language sounds gruff and belligerent, no matter how gentle itsmeaning. That amiable sentence: "Ich liebe dich" is no exception; tome it sounds relentless. I am confident that I asked for coffee in avery mild and ingratiating tone, in direct contrast to his command toget out, and was somewhat ruffled by his stare of speechless rage. 

"Zwei, " said Britton, pointing to the big coffee urn. 

The fellow began mopping around my feet--in fact, he went so far asto mop the tops of them and a little way up my left leg in his effortsto make a good, clean job of it. 

"Stop that!" I growled, kicking at the mop. Before I could get my footback on the floor he skilfully swabbed the spot where it had beenresting, a feat of celerity that I have never seen surpassed. "Damnit, don't!" I roared, backing away. The resolute mop followed me likethe spectre of want. Fascinated, I found myself retreating to thedoorway. 

Britton, resourceful fellow, put an end to his endeavours by jumpingupon the mop and pinning it to the floor very much as he would havestamped upon a wounded rat. 

The fellow called out lustily to some one in the kitchen, at the sametime giving the mop handle a mighty jerk. If you are expecting me tosay that Britton came to woe, you are doomed to disappointment. It wasjust the other way about. Just as the prodigious yank took place, myvalet hopped nimbly from the mop, and the waiter sat down with astunning thud. 

I do not know what might have ensued had not the proprietress of theplace appeared at that instant, coming from the kitchen. She was thecook as well, and she was large enough to occupy the space of at leastthree Brittons. She was huge beyond description. 

"Wass iss?" she demanded, pausing aghast. Her voice was a high, belyingtreble. 

I shall not attempt to describe in detail all that followed. It isonly necessary to state that she removed the mop from the hands of thequaking menial and fairly swabbed him out into the thick of therainstorm. 

While we were drinking our hot, steaming coffee and gorging ourselveswith frankfurters, the poor wretch stood under the eaves with his faceglued to the window, looking in at us with mournful eyes while thedrippings from the tiles poured upon his shoulders and ran in rivuletsdown his neck. I felt so sorry for him that I prevailed upon themuttering, apologetic hostess to take him in again. She called him inas she might have called a dog, and he edged his way past her with thesame scared, alert look in his eyes that one always sees in those ofan animal that has its tail between its legs. 

She explained that he was her nephew, just off the farm. Her sister'sson, she said, and naturally not as intelligent as he ought to be. 

While we were sitting there at the counter, a train roared past thelittle station. We rushed to the door in alarm. But it shot throughat the rate of fifty miles an hour. I looked at my watch. It stillwanted half-an-hour of train time, according to the schedule. 

"It was the express, mein herr, " explained the woman. "It never stops. We are too small yet. Some time we may be big enough. " I noticed thather eyes were fixed in some perplexity on the old clock above the pieshelves. "Ach! But it has never been so far ahead of time as to-night. It is not due for fifteen minutes yet, and here it is gone yet. "

"Perhaps your clock is slow, " I said. "My watch says four minutes totwelve. "

Whereupon she heaped a tirade of abuse upon the shrinking Hans forletting the clock lose ten minutes of her valuable time. To make sure, Hans set it forward nearly half an hour while she was looking the otherway. Then he began mopping the floor again. 

At half-past twelve the train from Munich drew up at the station, panted awhile in evident disdain, and then moved on. 

A single passenger alighted: a man with a bass viol. There was no signof the Tituses!

We made a careful and extensive search of the station, the platformand even the surrounding neighbourhood, but it was quite evident thatthey had not left the train. Here was a pretty pass! Britton, however, had the rather preposterous idea that there might be another train alittle later on. It did not seem at all likely, but we made inquiriesof the station agent. To my surprise--and to Britton's infernal Britishdelight--there was a fast train, with connections from the north, arriving in half an hour. It was, however, an hour late, owing to thestorm. 

"Do you mean that it will arrive at two o'clock?" I demanded in dismay. 

"No, no, " said the guard; "it will arrive at one but not until two. It is late, mein herr. "

We dozed in the little waiting-room for what I consider to be thelongest hour I've ever known, and then hunted up the guard once more. He blandly informed me that it was still an hour late. 

"An hour from _now_?" I asked. 

"An hour from two, " said he, pityingly. What ignorant lummixes we were!

Just ten minutes before three the obliging guard came in and rousedus from a mild sleep. 

"The train is coming, mein herr. "

"Thank God!"

"But I neglected to mention that it is an express and never stopshere. "

My right hand was still in a bandage, but it was so nearly healed thatI could have used it without discomfort--(note my ability to drivea motor car)--and it was with the greatest difficulty that I restraineda mad, devilish impulse to strike that guard full upon the nose, fromwhich the raindrops coursed in an interrupted descent from the visorof his cap. 

The shrill, childish whistle of the locomotive reached us at thatinstant. A look of wonder sprang into the eyes of the guard. 

"It--it is going to stop, mein herr, " he cried. "Gott in himmel! Ithas never stopped before. " He rushed out upon the platform in a greatstate of agitation, and we trailed along behind him, even more excitedthan he. 

It was still raining, but not so hard. The glare of the headlight wasupon us for an instant and then, passing, left us in blinding darkness. The brakes creaked, the wheels grated and at last the train came toa standstill. For one horrible moment I thought it was going on throughin spite of its promissory signal. Britton went one way and I theother, with our umbrellas ready. Up and down the line of _wagon lits_ weraced. A conductor stepped down from the last coach but one, andprepared to assist a passenger to alight. I hastened up to him. 

"Permit me, " I said, elbowing him aside. 

A portly lady squeezed through the vestibule and felt her way carefullydown the steps. Behind her was a smallish, bewhiskered man, trying toraise an umbrella inside the narrow corridor, a perfectly impossiblefeat. 

She came down into my arms with the limpness of one who is accustomedto such attentions, and then wheeled instantly upon the futileindividual on the steps above. 

"Quick! My hat! Heaven preserve us, how it rains!" she cried, in adeep, wheezy voice and--in German!

"Moth--" I began insinuatingly, but the sacred word died unfinishedon my lips. The next instant I was scurrying down the platform to whereI saw Britton standing. 

"Have you seen them?" I shouted wildly. 

"No, sir. Not a sign, sir. Ah! See!"

He pointed excitedly down the platform. 

"No!" I rasped out. "By no possible stretch of the imagination can_that_ be Mrs. Titus. Come! We must ask the conductor. _That_ woman?Good Lord, Britton, she _waddles!_"

The large lady and the smallish man passed us on the way to shelter, the latter holding an umbrella over her hat with one hand and lugginga heavy hamper in the other. They were both exclaiming in German. Thestation guard and the conductor were bowing and scraping in their wake, both carrying boxes and bundles. 

No one else had descended from the train. I grabbed the conductor bythe arm. 

"Any one else getting off here?" I demanded in English and at oncerepeated it in German. 

He shook himself loose, dropped the bags in the shelter of the stationhouse, doffed his cap to the imperious backs of his late passengers, and scuttled back to the car. A moment later the train was under way. 

"Can you not see for yourself?" he shouted from the steps as he passedme by. 

Once more I swooped down upon the guard. He was stuffing the largeGerman lady into a small, lopsided carriage, the driver of which wastaking off his cap and putting it on again after the manner of amechanical toy. 

"Go away, " hissed the guard angrily. "This is the Mayor and theMayoress. Stand aside! Can't you see?"

Presently the Mayor and the Mayoress were snugly stowed away in thecreaking hack, and it rattled away over the cobblestones. 

"When does the next train get in?" I asked for the third time. He wasstill bowing after the departing hack. 

"Eh? The next? Oh, mein herr, is it you?"

"Yes, it is still I. Is there another train soon?"

"That was Mayor Berg and his wife, " he said, taking off his cap againin a sort of ecstasy. "The express stops for him, eh? Ha! It stops forno one else but our good Mayor. When he commands it to stop it stops--"

"Answer my question, " I thundered, "or I shall report you to the Mayor!"

"Ach, Gott!" he gasped. Collecting his thoughts, he said: "There isno train until nine o'clock in the morning. Nine, mein herr. "

"Ach, Gott!" groaned I. "Are you sure?"

"Jah! You can go home now and go to bed, sir. There will be no trainuntil nine and I will not be on duty then. Good night!"

Britton led me into the waiting-room, where I sat down and glared athim as if he were to blame for everything connected with our presentplight. 

"I daresay we'd better be starting 'ome, sir, " said he timidly. "Something 'as gone wrong with the plans, I fear. They did not come, sir. "

"Do you think I am blind?" I roared. 

"Not at all, sir, " he said in haste, taking a step or two backward. 

Inquiries at the little eating-house only served to verify the reportof the station-guard. There would be no train before nine o'clock, andthat was a very slow one; what we would call a "local" in the States. Sometimes, according to the proprietress, it was so slow that it didn'tget in at all. It had been known to amble in as late as one in theafternoon, but when it happened to be later than that it ceased tohave an identity of its own and came in as a part of the two o'clocktrain. Moreover, it carried nothing but third-class carriages and moreoften than not it had as many as a dozen freight cars attached. 

There was not the slightest probability that the fastidious Mrs. Tituswould travel by such a train, so we were forced to the conclusion thatsomething had gone wrong with the plans. Very dismally we prepared forthe long drive home. What could have happened to upset the well-arrangedplan? Were Tarnowsy's spies so hot upon the trail that it was necessaryfor her to abandon the attempt to enter my castle? In that case, shemust have sent some sort of a message to her daughter, apprising herof the unexpected change; a message which, unhappily for me, arrivedafter my departure. It was not likely that she would have altered herplans without letting us know, and yet I could not shake off anexasperating sense of doubt. If I were to believe all that Bangs saidabout the excellent lady, it would not be unlike her to do quite asshe pleased in the premises without pausing to consider the comfortor the convenience of any one else interested in the undertaking. Aselfish desire to spend the day in Lucerne might have overtaken her_en passant_, and the rest of us could go hang for all that she caredabout consequences!

I am ashamed to confess that the longer I considered the matter, themore plausible this view of the situation appeared to me. By the timewe succeeded in starting the engine, after cranking for nearly halfan hour, I was so consumed by wrath over the scurvy trick she hadplayed upon us that I swore she should not enter my castle if I couldprevent it; moreover, I would take fiendish delight in dumping herconfounded luggage into the Danube. 

I confided my views to Britton who was laboriously cranking the machineand telling me between grunts that the "bloody water 'ad got into it, "and we both resorted to painful but profound excoriations without inthe least departing from our relative positions as master and man: heswore about one abomination and I another, but the gender wasundeviatingly the same. 

We also had trouble with the lamps. 

At last we were off, Britton at the wheel. I shall not describe thatdiabolical trip home. It is only necessary to say that we first lostour way and went ten or twelve kilometers in the wrong direction; thenwe had a blow-out and no quick-detachable rim; subsequently somethingwent wrong with the mud-caked machinery and my unfortunate valet hadto lie on his back in a puddle for half an hour; eventually we sneakedinto the garage with our trembling Mercedes, and quarrelled manfullywith the men who had to wash her. 

"Great heaven, Britton!" I groaned, stopping short in my sloshy progressdown the narrow street that led to the ferry. 

He looked at me in astonishment. I admit that the ejaculation musthave sounded weak and effeminate to him after what had gone before. 

"What is it, sir?" he asked, at once resuming his status as a servantafter a splendid hiatus of five hours or more in which he had enjoyedall of the by-products of equality. 

"Poopendyke!" I exclaimed, aghast. "I have just thought of him. Thepoor devil has been waiting for us three miles up the river sincemidnight! What do you think of that I"

"No such luck, sir, " said he, grumpily. 

"Luck! You heartless rascal! What do you mean by that?"

"I beg pardon, sir. I mean to say, he could sit in the boat 'ouse andtwiddle 'is thumbs at the elements, sir. Trust Mr. Poopendyke to keepout of the rain. "

"In any event, he is still waiting there for us, wet or dry. He andthe two big Schmicks. " I took a moment for thought. "We must telephoneto the castle and have Hawkes send Conrad out with word to them. " Ilooked at my watch. It was twenty minutes past seven. "I suppose noone in the castle went to bed last night. Good Lord, what a scene fora farce!"

We retraced our steps to the garage, where Britton went to thetelephone. I stood in the doorway of the building, staring gloomily, hollow-eyed at the--well, at nothing, now that I stop to think of it. The manager of the place, an amiable, jocund descendant of Lazarus, approached me. 

"Quite a storm last night, Mr. Schmarck, " he said, rubbing his handson an oil-rag. I gruffly agreed with him in a monosyllable. "But itis lovely to-day, sir. Heavenly, sir. "

"Heavenly?" I gasped. 

"Ah, but look at the glorious sun, " he cried, waving the oil-rag inall directions at once. 

The sun! Upon my word, the sun _was_ shining fiercely. I hadn't noticedit before. The tops of the little red-tiled houses down the streetglistened in the glare of sunshine that met my gaze as I looked up atthem. Suddenly I remembered that I had witnessed the sunrise, a mostdoleful, dreary phenomenon that overtook us ten miles down the valley. Ihad seen it but it had made no impression on my tortured mind. The greatgod of day had sprung up out of the earth to smile upon me--or atme--and I had let him go unnoticed, so black and desolate was the memoryof the night he destroyed! I had only a vague recollection of the dawn. The thing that caused me the most concern was the discovery that we hadrun the last half of our journey in broad daylight with our acetylenelamps going full blast. I stared at the tiles, blinking and unbelieving. 

"Well, I'm--dashed, " I said, with a silly grin. 

"The moon will shine to-night, Mr. Schmarck--" he began insinuatingly. 

"_Smart_, if you please, " I snapped. 

"Ah, " he sighed, rolling his eyes, "it is fine to be in love. "

A full minute passed before I grasped the meaning of that soft answer, and then it was too late. He had gone about his business without waitingto see whether my wrath had been turned away. I had been joy-riding!

The excitement in Britton's usually imperturbable countenance as hecame running up to me from the telephone closet prepared me in a wayfor the startling news that was to come. 

"Has anything serious happened?" I cried, my heart sinking a littlelower. 

"I had Mr. Poopendyke himself on the wire, sir. What do you think, sir?"

A premonition! "She--she has arrived?" I demanded dully. 

He nodded. "She 'as, sir. Mrs. --your mother, sir, is in your midst. "The proximity of the inquisitive manager explains this extraordinaryremark on the part of my valet. We both glared at the manager and hehad the delicacy to move away. "She arrived by a special train attwelve lawst night, sir. "

I was speechless. The brilliant sunshine seemed to be turning intosombre night before my eyes; everything was going black. 

"She's asleep, he says, and doesn't want to be disturbed till noon, so he says he can't say anything more just now over the telephonebecause he's afraid of waking 'er. " (Britton drops them when excited. )

"He doesn't have to shout so loud that he can be heard on the topfloor, " said I, still a trifle dazed. 

"She 'appens to be sleeping in your bed, sir, he says. "

"In _my_ bed? Good heavens, Britton! What's to become of _me_?"

"Don't take it so 'ard, sir, " he made haste to say. "Blatchford 'asfixed a place for you on the couch in your study, sir. It's all verysnug, sir. "

"But, Britton, " I said in horror, "suppose that I should have comehome last night. Don't you see?"

"I daresay she 'ad the door locked, sir, " he said. 

"By special train, " I mumbled. A light broke in upon my revivingintellect. "Why, it was the train that went through at a mile a minutewhile we were in the coffee-house. No wonder we didn't meet her!"

"I shudder to think of wot would 'ave 'appened if we had, sir, " saidhe, meaning no doubt to placate me. "Mr. Poopendyke says the Countess'as been up all night worrying about you, sir. She has been distracted. She wanted 'im to go out and search for you at four o'clock thismorning, but he says he assured 'er you'd turn up all right. He saysMrs. --the elderly lady, begging your pardon, sir, --thought she wasdoing for the best when she took a special. She wanted to save us allthe trouble she could. He says she was very much distressed by ourfailure to 'ave some one meet her with a launch when she got here lastnight, sir. As it was, she didn't reach the castle until nearly one, and she looked like a drowned rat when she got there, being hex--exposedto a beastly rainstorm. See wot I mean? She went to bed in a _dreadful_state, he says, but he thinks she'll be more pleasant before the day isover. "

I burst into a fit of laughter. "Hurray!" I shouted, exultantly. "Soshe was out in it too, eh? Well, by Jove, I don't feel half as badlyas I did five minutes ago. Come! Let us be off. "

We started briskly down the street. My spirits were beginning torebound. Poopendyke had said that she worried all night about me! Shehad been distracted! Poor little woman! Still I was glad to know thatshe had the grace to sit up and worry instead of going to sleep as shemight have done. I was just mean enough to be happy over it. 

Poopendyke met us on the town side of the river. He seemed a triflehaggard, I thought. He was not slow, on the other hand, to announcein horror-struck tones that I looked like a ghost. 

"You must get those wet clothes off at once, Mr. Smart, and go to bedwith a hot water bottle and ten grains of quinine. You'll be very illif you don't. Put a lot more elbow grease into those oars, Max. Geta move on you. Do you want Mr. Smart to die of pneumonia?"

While we were crossing the muddy river, my secretary, his teethchattering with cold and excitement combined, related the story of thenight. 

"We were just starting off for the boat-house up the river, accordingto plans, Max and Rudolph and I with the two boats, when the Countesscame down in a mackintosh and a pair of gum boots and insisted upongoing along with us. She said it wasn't fair to make you do all thework, and all that sort of thing, and I was having the devil's owntime to induce her to go back to the castle with Mr. Bangs. While wewere arguing with her, --and it was getting so late that I feared wewouldn't be in time to meet you, --we heard some one shouting on theopposite side of the river. The voice sounded something like Britton's, and the Countess insisted that there had been an accident and that youwere hurt, Mr. Smart, and nothing would do but we must send Max andRudolph over to see what the trouble was. It was raining cats and dogs, and I realised that it would be impossible for you to get a boatmanon that side at that hour of the night, --it was nearly one, --so I sentthe two Schmicks across. I've never seen a night as dark as it was. The two little lanterns bobbing in the boat could hardly be seen throughthe torrents of rain, and it was next to impossible to see the lightson the opposite landing stage--just a dull, misty glow. 

"To make the story short, Mrs. Titus and her sons were over there, with absolutely no means of crossing the river. There were no boatmen, the ferry had stopped, and they were huddled under the eaves of thewharf building. Everything was closed and locked up for the night. Thenight-watchman and a policeman lit the pier lamps for them, but that'sas far as they'd go. It took two trips over to fetch the whole partyacross. Raining pitchforks all the time, you understand. Mrs. Tituswas foaming at the mouth because you don't own a yacht or at least alaunch with a canopy top, or a limousine body, or something of thesort. 

"I didn't have much of a chance to converse with her. The Countesstried to get her upstairs in the east wing but she wouldn't climbanother step. I forgot to mention that the windlass was out of orderand she had to climb the hill in mud six inches deep. The Schmickscarried her the last half of the distance. She insisted on sleepingin the hall or the study, --anywhere but upstairs. I assumed theresponsibility of putting her in your bed, sir. It was either thator--"

I broke in sarcastically "You couldn't have put her into your bed, Isuppose. "

"Not very handily, Mr. Smart, " he said in an injured voice. "One ofher sons occupied my bed. Of course, it was all right, because I didn'tintend to go to bed, as it happened. The older son went upstairs withthe Countess. She gave up her bed to him, and then she and I sat upall night in the study waiting for a telephone message from you. Theyounger son explained a good many things to us that his motherabsolutely refused to discuss, she was so mad when she got here. Itseems she took it into her head at the last minute to charter a specialtrain, but forgot to notify us of the switch in the plans. She travelledby the regular train from Paris to some place along the line, whereshe got out and waited for the special which was following along behind, straight through from Paris, too. A woeful waste of money, it seemedto me. Her idea was to throw a couple of plain-clothes men off thetrack, and, by George, sir, she succeeded. They thought she was changingfrom a train to some place in Switzerland, and went off to watch theother station. Then she sneaked aboard the special, which was charteredclear through to Vienna. See how clever she is? If they followed onthe next train, or telegraphed, it would naturally be to Vienna. Shegot off at this place and--well, we have her with us, sir, as snugas a bug in a rug. "

"What is she like, Fred?" I inquired. I confess that I hung on hisreply. 

"I have never seen a wet hen, but I should say, on a guess, that she'sa good bit like one. Perhaps when she's thoroughly dried out she maynot be so bad, but--" He drew a long, deep breath. "But, upon my wordof honour, she was the limit last night. Of course one couldn't expecther to be exactly gracious, with her hair plastered over her face andher hat spoiled and her clothes soaked, but there was really no excusefor some of the things she said to me. I shall overlook them for yoursake and for the Countess's. " He was painfully red in the face. 

"The conditions, Fred, " I said, "were scarcely conducive to politepersiflage. "

"But, hang it all, I was as wet as she was, " he exploded, so violentlythat I knew his soul must have been tried to the utmost. 

"We must try to make the best of it, " I said. "It will not be forlong. " The thought of it somehow sent my heart back to its lowestlevel. 

He was glum and silent for a few minutes. Then he said, as if thethought had been on his mind for some hours: "She isn't a day overforty-five. It doesn't seem possible, with a six-foot son twenty-sixyears old. "

Grimly I explained. "They marry quite young when it's for money, Fred. "

"I suppose that's it, " he sighed. "I fancy she's handsome, too, whenshe hasn't been rained upon. "

We were half way up the slope when he announced nervously that all ofmy dry clothing was in the closet off my bedroom and could not be gotat under any circumstance. 

"But, " he said, "I have laid out my best frock coat and trousers foryou, and a complete change of linen. You are quite welcome to anythingI possess, Mr. Smart. I think if you take a couple of rolls at thebottom of the trousers, they'll be presentable. The coat may be alittle long for you, but--"

My loud laughter cut him short. 

"It's the best I could do, " he said in an aggrieved voice. 

I had a secret hope that the Countess would be in the courtyard towelcome me, but I was disappointed. Old Gretel met me and wept overme, as if I was not already sufficiently moist. The chef came runningout to say that breakfast would be ready for me when I desired it;Blatchford felt of my coat sleeve and told me that I was quite wet;Hawkes had two large, steaming toddies waiting for us in the vestibule, apparently fearing that we could get no farther without the aid of astimulant. But there was no sign of a single Titus. 

Later I ventured forth in Poopendyke's best suit of clothes--the onehe uses when he passes the plate on Sundays in far-away Yonkers. Itsmelled of moth-balls, but it was gloriously dry, so why carp! Wesneaked down the corridor past my own bedroom door and stole into thestudy. 

Just inside the door, I stopped in amazement. The Countess was soundasleep in my big armchair, a forlorn but lovely thing in a pinkpeignoir. Her rumpled brown hair nestled in the angle of the chair;her hands drooped listlessly at her sides; dark lashes lay upon thesoft white cheeks; her lips were parted ever so slightly, and her bosomrose and fell in the long swell of perfect repose. 

Poopendyke clutched me by the arm and drew me toward the door, or Imight have stood there transfixed for heaven knows how long. 

"She's asleep, " he whispered. 

It was the second time in twelve hours that some one had intimatedthat I was blind. 

 * * * * *

CHAPTER XVI

I INDULGE IN PLAIN LANGUAGE

The door creaked villainously. The gaunt, ecclesiastical tails of myborrowed frock coat were on the verge of being safely outside with mewhen she cried out. Whereupon I swiftly transposed myself, and stuckmy head through the half-open door. 

"Oh, it's you!" she cried, in a quavery voice. She was leaning forwardin the chair, her eyes wide open and eager. 

I advanced into the room. A look of doubt sprang into her face. Shestared for a moment and then rather piteously rubbed her eyes. 

"Yes, it is I, " said I, spreading my arms in such a way that my handsemerged from the confines of Poopendyke's sleeves. (Upon my word, Ihad no idea that he was so much longer than I!) "It is still I, Countess, despite the shrinkage. "

"The shrinkage?" she murmured, slowly sliding out of the chair. As sheunbent her cramped leg, she made a little grimace of pain, but smiledas she limped toward me, her hand extended. 

"Yes, I always shrink when I get wet, " I explained, resorting tofacetiousness. 

Then I bent over her hand and kissed it. As I neglected to release itat once, the cuff of Poopendyke's best coat slid down over our twohands, completely enveloping them. It was too much for me to stand. I squeezed her hand with painful fervour, and then released it intrepidation. 

"Poopendyke goes to church in it, " I said vaguely, leaving her to guesswhat it was that Poopendyke went to church in, or, perhaps, knowingwhat I meant, how I happened to be in it for the time being. "You'vebeen crying!"

Her eyes were red and suspiciously moist. 

As she met my concerned gaze, a wavering, whimsical smile crept intoher face. 

"It has been a disgustingly wet night, " she said. "Oh, you don't knowhow happy I am to see you standing here once more, safe and sound, and--and amiable. I expected you to glower and growl and--"

"On a bright, glorious, sunshiny morning like this?" I cried. "Never!I prefer to be graciously refulgent. Our troubles are behind us. "

"How good you are. " After a moment's careful, scrutiny of my face: "Ican see the traces of very black thoughts, Mr. Smart, --and recentones. "

"They were black until I came into this room, " I confessed. "Now theyare rose-tinted. "

She bent her slender body a little toward me and the red seemed toleap back into her lips as if propelled by magic. Resolutely I put myawkward, ungainly arms behind my back, and straightened my figure. Iwas curiously impressed by the discovery that I was very, very talland she very much smaller than my memory recorded. Of course, I hadno means of knowing that she was in bedroom slippers and not in thecustomary high-heeled boots that gave her an inch and a half of falsestature. 

"Your mother is here, " I remarked hurriedly. 

She glanced toward my bedroom door. 

"Oh, what a night!" she sighed. "I did all that I could to keep herout of your bed. It was useless. I _did_ cry, Mr. Smart. I know you musthate all of us. "

I laughed. "'Love thy neighbour as thyself, '" I quoted. "You are myneighbour, Countess; don't forget that. And it so happens that yourmother is also my neighbour at present, and your brothers too. Haveyou any cousins and aunts?"

"I can't understand how any one can be so good-natured as you, " shesighed. 

The crown of her head was on a level with my shoulder. Her eyes werelowered; a faint line of distress grew between them. For a minute Istared down at the brown crest of her head, an almost ungovernableimpulse pounding away at my sense of discretion. I do take credit untomyself for being strong enough to resist that opportunity to make aneverlasting idiot of myself. I knew, even then, that if a similarattack ever came upon me again I should not be able to withstand it. It was too much to expect of mortal man. Angels might survive the test, but not wingless man. 

All this time she was staring rather pensively at the second buttonfrom the top of Poopendyke's coat, and so prolonged and earnest washer gaze that I looked down in some concern, at the same time permittingmyself to make a nervous, jerky and quite involuntary digitalexamination of the aforesaid button. She looked up with a nervouslittle laugh. 

"I shall have to sew one on right there for poor Mr. Poopendyke, " shesaid, poking her finger into the empty buttonhole. "You dear bachelors!"

Then she turned swiftly away from me, and glided over to the bigarmchair, from the depths of which she fished a small velvet bag. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at me. 

"Please look the other way, " she said. Without waiting for me to doso, she took out a little gold box, a powder puff, and a stick of liprouge. Crossing to the small Florentine mirror that hung near my desk, she proceeded, before my startled eyes, to repair the slight--and tome unnoticeable--damage that had been done to her complexion beforethe sun came up. 

"Woman works in a mysterious way, my friend, her wonders to perform, "she paraphrased calmly. 

"No matter how transcendently beautiful woman may be, she always doesthat sort of thing to herself, I take it, " said I. 

"She does, " said the Countess with conviction. She surveyed herselfcritically. "There! And now I am ready to accept an invitation tobreakfast. I am disgustingly hungry. "

"And so am I!" I cried with enthusiasm. "Hurray! You shall eatPoopendyke's breakfast, just to penalise him for failing in his dutiesas host during my unavoidable--"

"Quite impossible, " she said. "He has already eaten it. "

"He has?"

"At half-past six, I believe. He announced at that ungodly hour thatif he couldn't have his coffee the first thing in the morning he wouldbe in for a headache all day. He suggested that I take a little napand have breakfast with you--if you succeeded in surviving the night. "

"Oh, I see, " said I slowly. "He knew all the time that you were nappingin that chair, eh?"

"You shall not scold him!"

"I shall do even worse than that. I shall pension him for life. "

She appeared thoughtful. A little frown' of annoyance clouded her brow. 

"He promised faithfully to arouse me the instant you were sighted onthe opposite side of the river. I made him stand in the window witha field glass. No, on second thought, _I_ shall scold him. If he hadcome to the door and shouted, you wouldn't have caught me in this odiousdressing-gown. Helene--"

"It is most fascinating, " I cried. "Adorable! I love flimsy, pinkthings. They're so intimate. And Poopendyke knows it, bless hisingenuous old soul. "

I surprised a queer little gleam of inquiry in her eyes. It flickeredfor a second and died out. 

"Do you really consider him an ingenuous old soul?" she asked. And Ithought there was something rather metallic in her voice. I might havereplied with intelligence if she had given me a chance, but for somereason she chose to drop the subject. "You _must_ be famished, and I amdying to hear about your experiences. You must not omit a single detail. I--"

There came a gentle, discreet knocking on the half-open door. I started, somewhat guiltily. 

"Come!"

Blatchford poked his irreproachable visage through the aperture andthen gravely swung the door wide open. 

"Breakfast is served, sir, --your ladyship. I beg pardon. "

I have never seen him stand so faultlessly rigid. As we passed him onthe way out a mean desire came over me to tread on his toes, just asan experiment. I wondered if he would change expression. But somehowI felt that he would say "Thank you, sir, " and there would be nosatisfaction in knowing that he had had all his pains for nothing. 

I shall never forget that enchanted breakfast--never! Not that I canrecall even vaguely what we had to eat, or who served it, or how muchof the naked truth I related to her in describing the events of thenight; I can only declare that it was a singularly light-hearted affair. 

At half-past one o'clock I was received by Mrs. Titus in my own study. The Countess came down from her eerie abode to officiate at theceremonious function--if it may be so styled--and I was agreeablysurprised to find my new guest in a most amiable frame of mind. True, she looked me over with what seemed to me an unnecessarily and perfectlyfrank stare of curiosity, but, on sober reflection, I did not hold itagainst her. I was still draped in Poopendyke's garments. 

At first sight I suppose she couldn't quite help putting me down asone of those literary freaks who typify intellect without intelligence. 

As for her two sons, they made no effort to disguise their amazement. (I have a shocking notion that the vowel u might be substituted forthe a in that word without loss of integrity!)

The elder of the two young men, Colingraft Titus, who being in thebusiness with his father in New York was permitted to travel most ofthe time so that he couldn't interfere with it, was taller than I, andan extremely handsome chap to boot. He was twenty-six. The younger, Jasper, Jr. , was nineteen, short and slight of build, with the merriesteyes I've ever seen. I didn't in the least mind the grin he bestowedupon me--and preserved with staunch fidelity throughout the wholeinterview, --but I resented the supercilious, lordly scorn of his elderbrother. 

Jasper, I learned, was enduring a protracted leave of absence fromYale; the hiatus between his freshman and sophomore years alreadycovered a period of sixteen months, and he had a tutor who appreciatedthe buttery side of his crust. 

Mrs. Titus, after thanking me warmly--and I think sincerely--for allthat I had done for Aline, apologised in a perfunctory sort of way forhaving kept me out of my bed all night, and hoped that I wouldn't catchcold or have an attack of rheumatism. 

I soon awoke to the fact that she was in the habit of centralisingattention. The usually volatile Countess became subdued and repressedin her presence; the big son and the little one were respectfullyquiescent; I confess to a certain embarrassment myself. 

She was a handsome woman with a young figure, a good complexion, cleareyes, wavy brown hair, and a rich, low voice perfectly modulated. Nodoubt she was nearing fifty but thirty-five would have been your guess, provided you were a bachelor. A bachelor learns something about womenevery day of his life, but not so much that he cannot be surprised theday after. 

I endeavoured to set her mind at rest by politely reminding her thatI couldn't have slept in the bed any way, having been out all night, and she smilingly assured me that it was a relief to find a literaryman who wasn't forever saying flat stupid things. 

I took them over the castle--that is, a _part_ of the castle. Mrs. Tituswouldn't climb stairs. She confessed to banting, but drew the line atanything more exhausting. I fear I was too palpably relieved when shedeclined to go higher than the second story. 

"It isn't necessary, Mr. Smart, " she said sweetly, "to go into thehistory of the wretched Rothhoefens, as a Cook's interpreter might do. You see, I know the castle quite well--and I have had all the _late_news from my daughter. "

"Of course!" I agreed. "Stupid of me not to remember that you aredescended from--"

"Mother isn't half as stuck up about it as you might think, Mr. Smart, "interrupted Jasper, Jr. , glibly. "She prefers to let people think herancestors were Dutch instead of merely German. Dutch ancestors are theproper thing in Jew York. "

"Jappie, " said his mother severely, "how often must I caution you notto speak of New York as Jew York? Some day you will say it to a Jew. One can't be too careful. Heaven alone knows when one is in the presenceof a Jew in these days. "

"Oh, I'm not Hebraic, " said I quickly. "My ancestors _were_ Dutch. Theycame over with the original skin grafters. "

She looked puzzled for a moment. The Countess laughed. Then Jasper sawthe point. Colingraft was the last to see it, and then it was too latefor him to smile. 

We had tea in the loggia and I dined with the family in the Countess'sapartment at eight that night. I think Mrs. Titus was rather favourablyimpressed when she beheld me in my own raiment. Britton had smoothedout my evening clothes until they almost shone, and I managed to carrymyself with unusual buoyancy. 

Everything went very well that evening. We were all in fine humour andthe dinner was an excellent one. I perpetrated but one unhappy blunder. I asked Mrs. Titus if she knew the Riley-Werkheimers and theRocks-worths in New York. 

"Visually, " she said succinctly, and I made haste to change the subject. The Countess looked amused, and Colingraft said something about itbeing more than likely that we did not have any mutual acquaintancesin New York. His sister came to my rescue with a very amusing andexaggerated account of my experience with the Riley-Werkheimers andRocksworths. Jasper was enthusiastic. Something told me that I wasgoing to like him. 

My real troubles began the next day--and at the rather unseemly hourof eight o'clock in the morning. Colingraft came down the hall in abath-gown and slippers, banged on my bedroom door, and wanted to knowwhy the devil he couldn't have hot water for his bath. He was toofull-blooded, and all that sort of thing, he said, to take a coldplunge. Moreover, he wasn't used to taking his tub in a tin-cup. (Thatwas his sarcastic way of referring to my portable, handy bath-tub. )I asked him why he didn't ring for Britton, and he said he did butthat Britton was assisting Jasper in a wild chase for a bat which hadgot into the lad's room during the night. 

"Thank your lucky stars it didn't get into Mother's room, " he saidsurlily. I silently thanked them. 

He made such a row about his tub that I had to give him the pail ofhot water Britton had placed in my bedroom, preparatory to my own bath. 

At breakfast Jasper complained about the bats. He couldn't for thelife of him see why I didn't have screens in the windows. 

Later on Mrs. Titus, who had coffee and toast in her room, joined usin the loggia and announced that the coffee was stone cold. Moreover, she did not like the guest-chamber into which she had been moved byorder of the Countess. It was too huge for a bed-chamber, and the ironwindow shutters creaked all night long. 

"But don't you love the view you have of the Danube?" I queried, rathermournfully. 

"I don't sit in the window all night, Mr. Smart, " she said tartly. 

I at once insisted on her resuming possession of my bedroom, andpromptly had all of my things moved into the one she had occupiedduring the night. When the Countess heard of this arrangement she wasmost indignant. She got me off in a corner and cruelly informed methat I hadn't the vestige of a backbone. She must have said somethingto her mother, too, for when evening came around I had to move backinto my own room, Mrs. Titus sweetly assuring me that under noconsideration would she consent to impose upon my good nature andhospitality to such an extent, etc. , etc. 

During the day, at odd times, Colingraft made lofty suggestions inregard to what could be done with the place to make it more or lessinhabitable, and Jasper, --who, by the way, I was beginning to fearI should not like after all, --said he'd just like to have a whack atthe thing himself. First thing he'd do would be to turn some of thoseold, unused rooms into squash and racquet courts, and he'd also putin a swimming-pool and a hot-water plant. 

Late in the afternoon, I stole far up into the eastern tower to visitmy adorable friend Rosemary. We played house together on the nurseryfloor and I soon got over my feeling of depression. But even in playI was made to realise that I was not the master of the house. She ruledme with the utmost despotism, but I didn't mind. She permitted me tosip honey from that cunning place in her little neck and managed tocall me Unko. My heart grew warm and soft again under the spell of her. 

The Countess watched us at play from her seat by the window. She wasstrangely still and pensive. I had the feeling that she was watchingme all the time, and that there was a shadow of anxiety in her lovelyeyes. She smiled at our pranks, and yet there was something sad in thesmile. 

I was young again with Rosemary, and full of glee. She took me out ofmyself. I forgot the three Tituses and with them many of my woes. Herewas a cure for the blues: this gay little kiddie of the unspeakableTarnowsy!

I lay awake for hours that night, but when I finally went to sleepand heaven knows I needed it!--it was with the soporific resolutionto put my house rigidly in order the very next day. I would be politeabout it, but very firm. The Titus family (omitting the Countess andRosemary) was to be favoured with an ultimatum from which there couldbe no appeal. John Bellamy Smart had decided--with Morpheus smoothingout the wrinkles of perplexity--that he would be master in his ownhouse. 

My high resolve flattened itself out a little after the sound sleepI had, and I make no doubt I should have wavered sadly in my purposehad not a crisis arisen to shape my courage for me in a rather emphaticway. 

Shortly after breakfast Mrs. Titus came downstairs very smartly gownedfor the street. She announced that she was going into the town for anhour or two and asked me to have one of the Schmicks ferry her acrossthe river. There was a famous antique shop there--memory of otherdays--and she wanted to browse a while in search of brasses and bronzes. 

I looked at her, aghast. I recognised the crisis, but for a moment wasunable to marshal my powers of resistance. Noting my consternation, she calmly assured me that there wouldn't be the least danger ofdetection, as she was going to be heavily veiled and _very_ cautious. 

"My dear Mrs. Titus, " I murmured in my dismay, "it isn't to beconsidered. I am sure you won't persist in this when I tell you thatTarnowsy's agents are sure to see you and--"

She laughed. "Tarnowsy's agents! Why should they be here?"

"They seem to be everywhere. "

"I can assure you there is none within fifty miles of SchlossRothhoefen. Our men are in the city. Four of them preceded me. Thismorning I had Mr. Bangs telephone to the hotel where the chief operativeis staying--in the guise of an American tourist, and he does it verycleverly for an Englishman, too, --and he assures me that there isabsolutely no danger. Even Mr. Bangs is satisfied. "

"I am forced to say that I am by no means satisfied that it is a safeor wise thing to do, Mrs. Titus, " I said, with more firmness than Ithought I possessed. 

She raised her delicate eyebrows in a most exasperating well-bred, admonitory way. 

"I am quite sure, Mr. Smart, that Dillingham is a perfectly trustworthydetective, and--"

"But why take the slightest risk?"

"It is necessary for me to see Dillingham, that is the long and shortof it, " she said coldly. "One can't discuss things over a telephone, you know. Mr. Bangs understands. And, by the way, Mr. Smart, I havetaken the liberty of calling up the central office of the telephonecompany to ask if they can run an extension wire to my dressing-room. I hope you do not mind. "

"Not in the least. I should have thought of it myself. "

"You have so much to think of, poor man. And now will you be goodenough to have Hawkes order the man to row me across the--"

"I am very sorry, Mrs. Titus, " said I firmly, "but I fear I must declaremyself. I cannot permit you to go into the town to-day. "

She was thunderstruck. "Are you in earnest?" she cried, after searchingmy face rather intently for a moment. 

"Unhappily, yes. Will you let me explain--"

"The _idea!_" she exclaimed as she drew herself to her full height andwithered me with a look of surpassing scorn. "Am I to regard myself as aprisoner, Mr. Smart?"

"Oh, I beg of you, Mrs. Titus--" I began miserably. 

"Please answer my question. "

Her tone cut me like the lash of a whip. My choler rose. 

"I do not choose to regard myself as a jailer. My only object inopposing this--"

"I have never known anything so absurd. " Two bright red spots appearedin her cheeks. "Your attitude is most extraordinary. However, I shallgo to the city this morning, Mr. Smart. Pray give me the credit ofhaving sense enough to--Ah, Colingraft. "

The two sons approached from the breakfast-room, where they had beenenjoying a ten o'clock chop. Colingraft, noting his mother's attire, accelerated his speed and was soon beside us. 

"Going out, Mother?" he enquired, flicking the ash from his cigarette. 

"If Mr. Smart will be good enough to withdraw his opposition, " shesaid icily. 

He gave me a sharp look. "What's up?"

"Mrs. Titus doesn't seem to realise the risk she runs in--"

"Risk? Do you suppose, Mr. Smart, I would jeopardise my daughter's--"

"What's up?" repeated Colingraft insistently. 

"Mr. Smart calmly informs me that I am not to go into the city. "

"I don't see that Mr. Smart has anything to say about it, " said herson coolly. "If he--" He paused, glaring. 

I looked him squarely in the eye. If he had possessed the acumen ofa pollywog he would have seen that my Dutch was up. 

"One moment, Mr. Titus, " I said, setting my jaw. "I have this to sayabout it. You are guests in my house. We are jointly interested in theeffort to protect the Countess Tarnowsy. I consider it to be the heightof imprudence for any member of your family to venture into the city, now or at any time during her stay in this castle. I happen to knowthat Tarnowsy is having me watched for some purpose or other. I don'tthink he suspects that the Countess is here, but I greatly fear thathe believes I am interested in her cause. He suspects _me_. You haveheard of our recent encounter. He knows my position pretty well by thistime. Mrs. Titus says that the man Dillingham assures her there is nodanger. Well, I can only say that Dillingham is a fool, and I don'tpurpose having my own safety threatened by--"

"Your safety?" exclaimed he. "I like that! What have you got to beafraid of?"

"You seem to forget that I am harbouring a fugitive from justice, " Isaid flatly. 

Mrs. Titus gasped. "How dare you--" "The Countess Tarnowsy is wantedby the authorities for kidnapping, and I think you know the facts quiteas well as I do, " I went on harshly. "God knows I am doing my best toprotect her. I am risking more than you seem to appreciate. If she isfound here, my position isn't likely to be an enviable one. I am notthinking solely of myself, believe me, but after all I contend thatI have a right to assert myself in a crisis that may affect me vitally. I trust you will see my position and act accordingly, --withconsideration, if nothing else. "

Mrs. Titus did not take her eyes off mine while I was speaking. Therewas an expression of utter amazement in them. No one had ever opposedher before in just this way, I gathered. She didn't know what to makeof it. 

"I fear you exaggerate the extent of your peril, Mr. Smart, " she saiddrily. "Of course, I have no desire to put you in jeopardy, but itseems to me--"

"Leaving me out of the case altogether, don't you think it is a bitunfair to the Countess?" I asked in some heat. "She doesn't want togo to jail. "

"Jail?" she cried angrily. 

"That's no way to speak about--" began Colingraft furiously. 

I broke in rashly. "If you please, Mr. Titus, be good enough to keepyour temper. I have no desire to appear harsh and arbitrary, but I cansee that it is necessary to speak plainly. There isn't anything in theworld I will not do to help you and the Countess in this unfortunatebusiness, Mrs. Titus. I hope you believe me when I say as much. I amher friend; I want to be yours if you will let me. But I reserve theright to say what shall be and what shall not be done as long as youare under my roof. Just a moment, Mr. Titus! I think we are quiteagreed that your sister is to depart from here on the fourteenth ofthe month. I am to be her escort, so to speak, for a considerabledistance, in company with Mr. Bangs. Well, it must be clearly understoodthat not one of you is to show his or her face outside these wallsuntil after that journey is over. That's plain-speaking, isn't it?"

"I shall go where I please, and I'll go to the town to-day--" roaredColingraft, getting no farther for the reason that his mother, seeingthat I was desperately in earnest, gave vent to a little cry of alarmand clutched her big son by the shoulder. She begged him to listen toreason!

"Reason!" he gasped. 

"If you--or any of you--put a foot outside these walls, " I declared, "you will not be allowed to re-enter. That's flat!"

"By cricky!" fell in fervent admiration from the lips of Jasper, Jr. I glanced at his beaming, astonished face. He positively was grinning!"Good for you! You're a wonder, Mr. Smart! By cricky! And you're _deadright_. We're darn fools!"

"Jasper!" gasped Mrs. Titus. 

"Good for you, Jasper!" I cried warmly, and took the hand he proffered. 

"Colingraft, please take me to my room, " murmured the mother. "I--Ifeel faint. Send for Aline. Ask Mr. Bangs to come to me at once. "

I bowed stiffly. "I am sorry, Mrs. Titus, to have been so harsh, soassertive--"

She held up both hands. "I never was so spoken to in all my life, Mr. Smart. I shall not forget it to my dying day. "

She walked away from me, her pretty head held high and her chinsuspiciously aquiver. Colingraft hastened after her, but not withoutgiving me a stare in which rage and wonder struggled for the mastery. 

I ran my hand over my moist brow. 

"Gee!" said Jasper, Jr. "You've corked her all right, all right. " Hefollowed me into the study and I couldn't get rid of him for hours. 

Later in the forenoon the Countess, with a queer little smile on herlips, told me that her mother considered me the most wonderful, themost forceful character she had ever encountered. I brightened up atthat. 

But Colingraft was not yet through with me. 

CHAPTER XVII

I SEE TO THE BOTTOM OF THINGS

He sought me out just before luncheon. I was in the courtyard, listeningpatiently to Jasper Jr. 's theories and suggestions concerning therestoration of the entire facade of the castle, and what he'd do ifhe were in my place. Strange to say, I was considerably entertained;he was not at all offensive; on the contrary, he offered his ideas ina pleasantly ingenuous way, always supplementing them with some suchsalve as: "Don't you think so, Mr. Smart?" or "I'm sure you have thoughtof it yourself, " or "Isn't that your idea, too?" or "You've done wonderswith the joint, old man. "

Colingraft came directly up to where we were standing. There was troublein his eye. 

"See here, Mr. Smart, " he began austerely. "I've got something to sayto you, and I'm not the sort to put it off. I appreciate what you'vedone for Aline and all that sort of thing, but your manner to-day hasbeen intolerable, and we've got to come to an understanding. "

I eyed him closely. "I suppose you're about to suggest that one or theother of us must--evacuate--get out, so to speak, " said I. 

"Don't talk rubbish. You've got my mother bawling her eyes out upstairs, and wishing she were dead. You've got to come off this high horse ofyours. You've got to apologise to her, and damned quick, at that. Understand?"

"Nothing will give me greater joy than to offer her my most abjectapology, Mr. Titus, unless it would be her unqualified forgiveness. "

"You'll have to withdraw everything you said. "

"I'll withdraw everything except my ultimatum in respect to her puttinga foot outside these walls. That still stands. "

"I beg to differ with you. "

"You may beg till you're black in the face, " said I coolly. 

He swallowed hard. His face twitched, and his hands were clenched. 

"You are pretty much of a mucker, Mr. Smart, " he said, between histeeth. "I'm sorry my sister has fallen into your hands. The worst ofit is, she seems satisfied with everything you do. Good Lord! What shecan see in you is beyond my comprehension. Protection! Why you couldn'tprotect her from the assault of a chicken. "

"Are you trying to insult me, Mr. Titus?"

"You couldn't resent it if I were. There never was an author withenough moral backbone to--"

"Wait! You are her brother. I don't want to have trouble with you. Butif you keep on in this strain, Mr. Titus, I shall be compelled tothresh you soundly. "

He fairly gasped. "Th--thresh me!" he choked out. Then he advanced. 

Much to his surprise--and, strangely enough, not to my own--I failedto retreat. Instead, I extended my left fist with considerableabruptness and precision and he landed on his back. 

I experienced a sensation of unholy joy. Up to that moment I hadwondered whether I could do it with my left hand. 

I looked at Jasper, Jr. He was staring at me in utter bewilderment. 

"Good Lord! You--you've knocked him down!"

"I didn't think I could do it, " said I hazily. 

He sprang to his brother's side, and assisted him to a sitting posture. 

"Right to the jaw, " shouted Jasper, with a strange enthusiasm. 

"Left, " I corrected him. 

Colingraft gazed about him in a stupid, vacant fashion for a moment, and then allowed his glazed eyes to rest upon me. He sat rather limply, I thought. 

"Are you hurt, Colly?" cried Jasper, Jr. 

A sickly grin, more of surprise than shame, stole over Colingraft'sface. He put his hand to his jaw; then to the back of his head. 

"By Jove!" he murmured. "I--I didn't think he had it in him. Let meget up!"

Jasper, Jr. Was discreet. "Better let well enough alone, old--"

"I intend to, " said Colingraft, as he struggled to his feet. 

For a moment he faced me, uncertainly. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Titus, " said I calmly. 

"You--you are a wonder!" fell from his lips. "I'm not a coward, Mr. Smart. I've boxed a good deal in my time, but--by Jove, I never hada jolt like that. "

He turned abruptly and left us. We followed him slowly toward thesteps. At the bottom he stopped and faced me again. 

"You're a better man than I thought, " he said. "If you'll bury thehatchet, so will I. I take back what I said to you, not because I'mafraid of you, but because I respect you. What say? Will you shakehands?"

[Illustration: Up to that moment I had wondered whether I could do itwith my left hand. ]

The surly, arrogant expression was gone from his face. In its placewas a puzzled, somewhat inquiring look. 

"No hard feeling on my part, " I cried gladly. We shook hands. Jasper, Jr. Slapped me on the back. "It's a most distressing, atavistic habitI'm getting into, knocking people down without rhyme or reason. "

"I daresay you had reason, " muttered Colingraft. "I got what was comingto me. " An eager light crept into his handsome eyes. "By Jove, we canget in some corking work with the gloves while I'm here. I box quitea bit at home, and I miss it travelling about like this. What say toa half-hour or so every day? I have the gloves in one of my trunks. I'm getting horribly seedy. I need stirring up. "

"Charmed, I'm sure, " I said, assuming an enthusiasm I did not feel. Put on the gloves with this strapping, skillful boxer? Not I! I wasfirmly resolved to stop while my record was good. In a scientific clashwith the gloves he would soon find out what a miserable duffer I was. 

"And Jappy, here, is no slouch. He's as shifty as the dickens. "

"The shiftier the better, " said I, with great aplomb. Jasper, Jr. , stuck out his chest modestly, and said: "Oh, piffle, Colly. " But justthe same I hadn't the least doubt in my mind that Jasper could "putit all over me. " It was a rather sickening admission, though strictlyprivate. 

We made our way to my study, where I mildly suggested that we refrainfrom mentioning our little encounter to Mrs. Titus or the Countess. I thought Colingraft was especially pleased with the idea. We sworesecrecy. 

"I've always been regarded as a peaceful, harmless grub, " I explained, still somewhat bewildered by the feat I had performed, and considerablyshaken by the fear that I was degenerating into a positive ruffian. "You will believe me, I hope, when I declare that I was merely actingin self-defence when I--"

He actually laughed. "Don't apologise. " He could not resist the impulseto blurt out once more: "By Jove, I didn't think you could do it. "

"With my left hand, too, " I said wonderingly. Catching myself up, Ihastily changed the subject. 

A little later on, as Colingraft left the room, slyly feeling of hisjaw, Jasper, Jr. Whispered to me excitedly: "You've got him eating outof your hand, old top. "

Things were coming to a pretty pass, said I to myself when I was allalone. It certainly is a pretty pass when one knocks down the ex-husbandand the brother of the woman he loves, and quite without the leastsuspicion of an inherited pugnacity. 

I had a little note from the Countess that afternoon, ceremoniouslydelivered by Helene Marie Louise Antoinette. It read as follows:

"You did Colingraft a very good turn when you laid him low this morning. He is tiresomely interested in his prowess as a box-maker, or a boxster, or whatever it is in athletic parlance. He has been like a lamb allafternoon and he really can't get over the way you whacked him. (Iswhack the word?) At first he was as mum as could be about it, but Ithink he really felt relieved when I told him I had seen the wholeaffair from a window in my hall. You see it gave him a chance to explainhow you got in the whack, and I have been obliged to listen tointermittent lectures on the manly art of self-defence all afternoon, first from him, then from Jappy. I have a headache, and no means ofdefence. He admits that he deserved it, but I am not surprised. Collyis a sporting chap. He hasn't a mean drop of blood in his body. Youhave made a friend of him. So please don't feel that I hold a grudgeagainst you for what you did. The funny part of it all is that mammaquite agrees with him. She says he deserved it! Mamma is wonderful, really, when it comes to a pinch. She has given up all thought of'putting a foot outside the castle. ' Can you have luncheon with usto-morrow? Would it be too much trouble if we were to have it in theloggia? I am just mad to get out-of-doors if only for an hour or twoin that walled-in spot. Mr. Poopendyke has been perfectly lovely. Hecame up this morning to tell me that you haven't sneezed at all andthere isn't the remotest chance now that you will have a cold. It seemshe was afraid you might. You must have a very rugged constitution. Britton told Blake that most men would have died from exposure if theyhad been put in your place. How good you are to me. 

"ALINE T. "

"P. S. --I may come down to see you this evening. "

 * * * * * * *

I shall skip over the rather uninteresting events of the next two orthree days. Nothing of consequence happened, unless you are willingto consider important two perfectly blissful nights of sleep on mypart. Also, I had the pleasure of taking the Countess "out walking"in my courtyard, to use a colloquialism: once in the warm, sweetsunshine, again 'neath the glow of a radiant moon. She had not beenoutside the castle walls, literally, in more than five weeks, and thecolour leaped back into her cheeks with a rush that delighted me. Imay mention in passing that I paid particular attention to hersuggestion concerning my dilapidated, gone-to-seed garden, althoughI had been bored to extinction by Jasper, Jr. When he undertook toenlighten me horticulturally. She agreed to come forth every day andassist me in building the poor thing up; propping it, so to speak. 

As for Mrs. Titus, that really engaging lady made life so easy for methat I wondered why I had ever been apprehensive. She was quitewonderful when "it came to a pinch. " I began to understand a good manythings about her, chief among them being her unvoiced theories onmatrimony. While she did not actually commit herself, I had nodifficulty in ascertaining that, from her point of view, marriages arenot made in heaven, and that a properly arranged divorce is a greatdeal less terrestrial than it is commonly supposed to be. She believedin matrimony as a trial and divorce as a reward, or something to thateffect. 

My opinion seemed to carry considerable weight with her. For a day ortwo after our somewhat sanguinary encounter, she was prone tostart--even to jump slightly--when I addressed myself to her withunintentional directness. She soon got over that, however. 

We were discussing Aline's unfortunate venture into the state ofmatrimony and I, feeling temporarily august and superior, managed tosay the wrong thing and in doing so put myself in a position from whichI could not recede without loss of dignity. If my memory serves mecorrectly I remarked, with some asperity, that marriages of that kindnever turned out well for any one except the bridegroom. 

She looked at me coldly. "I am afraid, Mr. Smart, that you have beenputting some very bad notions into my daughter's head, " she said. 

"Bad notions?" I murmured. 

"She has developed certain pronounced and rather extraordinary viewsconcerning the nobility as the result of your--ah--argument, I maysay. "

"I'm very sorry. I know one or two exceedingly nice noblemen, and I'veno doubt there are a great many more. She must have misunderstood me. I wasn't running down the nobility, Mrs. Titus. I was merely questioningthe advisability of elevating it in the way we Americans sometimes do. "

"You did not put it so adroitly in discussing the practice with Aline, "she said quickly. "Granted that her own marriage was a mistake, --adreadful mistake, --it does not follow that all international matchesare failures. I would just as soon be unhappily married to a duke asto a dry-goods merchant, Mr. Smart. "

"But not at the same price, Mrs. Titus, " I remarked. 

She smiled. "A husband is dear at any price. "

"I shouldn't put it just that way, " I protested. "A good Americanhusband is a necessity, not a luxury. "

"Well, to go back to what I started to say, Aline is very bitter aboutmatrimony as viewed from my point of view. I am sorry to say I attributeher attitude to your excellent counselling. "

"You flatter me. I was under the impression she took her lessons ofTarnowsy. "

"Granted. But Tarnowsy was unfit. Why tar all of them with the samestick? There are good noblemen, you'll admit. "

"But they don't need rehabilitation. "

"Aline, I fear, will never risk another experiment. It's rathercalamitous, isn't it? When one stops to consider her youth, beauty andall the happiness there may be--"

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Titus, but I think your fears are groundless. "

"What do you mean?"

"The Countess will marry again. I am not betraying a secret, becauseshe has intimated as much to my secretary as well as to me. I take itthat as soon as this unhappy affair is settled, she will be free toreveal the true state of her feelings toward--" I stopped, somewhatdismayed by my garrulous turn. 

"Toward whom?" she fairly snapped. 

"I don't know, " I replied truthfully--and, I fear, lugubriously. 

"Good heaven!" she cried, starting up from the bench on which we weresitting in the loggia. There was a queer expression in her eyes. "Hasn't--hasn't she ever hinted at--hasn't she mentioned any one atall?"

"Not to me. "

Mrs. Titus was agitated, I could see that very plainly. A thoughtfulfrown appeared on her smooth brow, and a gleam of anxiety sprang intoher eyes. 

"I am sure that she has had no opportunity to--" She did not completethe sentence, in which there was a primary note of perplexity andwonder. 

It grilled me to discover that she did not even so much as take meinto consideration. 

"You mean since the--er--divorce?" I inquired. 

"She has been in seclusion all of the time. She has seen no man, --thatis to say, no man for whom she could possibly entertain a--But, ofcourse, you are mistaken in your impression, Mr. Smart. There isabsolutely nothing in what you say. "

"A former sweetheart, antedating her marriage, " I suggested hopelessly. 

"She has no sweetheart. Of that I am positive, " said she withconviction. 

"She must have had an army of admirers. They were legion after hermarriage, I may be pardoned for reminding you. "

She started. "Has she never mentioned Lord Amberdale to you?" sheasked. 

"Amberdale?" I repeated, with a queer sinking of the heart. "No, Mrs. Titus. An Englishman?"

She was mistress of herself once more. In a very degage manner sheinformed me that his lordship, a most attractive and honourable youngEnglishman, had been one of Aline's warmest friends at the time of thedivorce proceedings. But, of course, there was nothing in that! Theyhad been good friends for years, nothing more, and he was a perfectdear. 

But she couldn't fool me. I could see that there was something workingat the back of her mind, but whether she was distressed or gratifiedI was not by way of knowing. 

"I've never heard her mention Lord Amberdale, " said I. 

Her eyes narrowed slightly. Had I but known, the mere fact that theCountess had not spoken of his lordship provided her experienced motherwith an excellent reason for believing that there was something betweenthem. She abruptly brought the conversation to a close and left me, saying that she was off for her beauty nap. 

Alone, I soon became a prey to certain disquieting thoughts. Summedup, they resolved themselves into a condition of certainty whichadmitted of but one aspect: the charming Countess was in love withAmberdale. And the shocking part of it all was that she was in lovewith him prior to her separation from Tarnowsy! I felt a coldperspiration start out all over my body as this condition forced itselfupon me. _He_ was the man; _he_ had been the man from the beginning. Myheart was like lead for the rest of the day, and, very curiously, for aleaden thing it was subject to pain. 

Just before dinner, Britton, after inspecting me out of the corner ofhis eye for some time, advised me to try a little brandy. 

"You look seedy, sir, " he said with concern in his voice. "A coldsetting in perhaps, sir. "

I tried the brandy, but not because I thought I was taking a cold. Somehow it warmed me up. There is virtue in good spirits. 

The Countess was abroad very early the next morning. I discovered herin the courtyard, giving directions to Max and Rudolph who were doingsome spading in the garden. She looked very bright and fresh andenticing in the light of an early moon, and I was not only pleased butastonished, having been led to believe all my life that a woman, nomatter how pretty she may be, appears at her worst when the day isyoung. 

I joined her at once. She gave me a gay, accusing smile. 

"What have you been saying to mother?" she demanded, as she shook handswith me. "I thought you were to be trusted. "

I flushed uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Countess. I--I didn't know it wasa secret. "

She looked at me somewhat quizzically for a moment. Then she laughedsoftly. "It is a secret. "

"I hope I haven't got you into bad odour with your--"

"Oh, dear me, no! I'm not in the least worried over what mother maythink. I shall do as I please, so there's the end of it. "

I swallowed something that seemed to be sticking in my throat. "Thenit is true that you are going to marry?"

"Quite, " she said succinctly. 

I was silent for a moment. "Well, I'm--I'm glad to know it in time, "I said, rather more gruffly than was necessary. 

She smiled too merrily, I thought. "You must not tell any one elseabout it, however. "

"I can promise that, " I said, a sullen rage in my soul. "Devils couldnot drag it out of me. Rest easy. "

It occurred to me afterwards that she laughed rather jerkily, you mightsay uneasily. At any rate, she turned away and began speaking to Max. 

"Have you had your breakfast?" I asked stupidly. 

"No. "

"Neither have I. Will you join me?"

"Isn't it getting to be a habit?"

"Breakfast or--you?"

"Breakfast _and_ me. "

"I confess, my dear Countess, that I like you for breakfast, " I saidgallantly. 

"That is a real tribute, " she said demurely, and took her place besideme. Together we crossed the courtyard. 

On the steps Colingraft Titus was standing. I uttered an audible groanand winced as if in dire pain. 

"What is it?" she cried quickly. 

"Rheumatism, " I announced, carefully raising my right arm and affectingan expression of torture. I am not a physical coward, kind reader. Thefact that young Mr. Titus carried in his hands a set of formidablelooking boxing-gloves did not frighten me. Heaven knows, if it wouldgive him any pleasure to slam me about with a pair of gloves, I am notwithout manliness and pluck enough to endure physical pain and mentalhumiliation. It was diplomacy, cunning, astuteness, --whatever you maychoose to call it, --that stood between me and a friendly encounterwith him. Two minutes' time would serve to convince him that he wasmy master, and then where would I be? Where would be the prestige Ihad gained? Where my record as a conqueror? "I must have caught coldin my arms and shoulders, " I went on, making worse faces than beforeas I moved the afflicted parts experimentally. 

"There!" she exclaimed ruefully. "I _knew_ you would catch cold. Menalways do. I'm so sorry. "

"It's nothing, " I made haste to explain:--"that is, nothing serious. I'll get rid of it in no time at all. " I calculated for a minute. "Aweek or ten days at the most. Good morning, Colingraft. "

"Morning. Hello, sis. Well?" He dangled the gloves before my eyes. 

My disappointment was quite pathetic. "Tell him, " I said to theCountess. 

"He's all crippled up with rheumatism, Colly, " she said. "Put thoseugly things away. We're going in to breakfast. "

He tossed the gloves into a corner of the vestibule. I felt a littleashamed of my subterfuge in the face of his earnest expression ofconcern. 

"Tell you what I'll do, " he said warmly. "I know how to rub a fellow'smuscles--"

"Oh, I have a treasure in Britten, " said I, hastily. "Thanks, old man. He will work it out of me. Sorry we can't have a go this morning. "

The worst of it all was that he insisted, as a matter of personaleducation, on coming to my room after breakfast to watch the expertmanoeuvres of Britton in kneading the stiffness out of my muscles. Hewas looking for new ideas, he explained. I first consulted Britton andthen resignedly consented to the demonstration. 

To my surprise, Britton was something of an expert. I confess that healmost killed me with those strong, iron-like hands of his; if I wasnot sore when he began with me, I certainly was when he finished. Colingraft was most enthusiastic. He said he'd never seen any onemanipulate the muscles so scientifically as Britton, and ventured theopinion that he would not have to repeat the operation often. To myselfI said that he wouldn't have to repeat it at all. 

We began laying our plans for the fourteenth. Communications arrivedfrom Italy, addressed to me but intended for either the Countess orthe rather remote Mr. Bangs, who seemed better qualified to effacehimself than any human being I've ever seen. These letters informedus that a yacht--one of three now cruising in the-Mediterranean--wouldcall at an appointed port on such and such a day to take her out tosea. Everything was being arranged on the outside for her escape fromthe continent, and precision seamed to be the watchword. 

Of course I couldn't do a stroke of work on my novel. How could I beexpected to devote myself to fiction when fact was staring me in theface so engagingly? We led an idle, _dolce far niente_ life in thesedays, with an underlying touch of anxiety and excitement that increasedas the day for her departure drew near. I confess to a sickening senseof depression that could not be shaken off. 

Half of my time was spent in playing with Rosemary. She became dearerto me with each succeeding day. I knew I should miss her tremendously. I should even miss Jinko, who didn't like me but who no longer growledat me. The castle would be a very gloomy, drear place after they wereout of it. I found myself wondering how long I would be able to endurethe loneliness. Secretly I cherished the idea of selling the place ifI could find a lunatic in the market. 

An unexpected diversion came one day when, without warning andfiguratively out of a clear sky, the Hazzards and the Billy Smithsswooped down upon me. They had come up the river in the power boat fora final September run, and planned to stop over night with me!

They were the last people in the world whom I could turn away from mydoor. There might have been a chance to put them up for the night andstill avoid disclosures, had not circumstance ordered that the Countessand I should be working in the garden at the very moment that broughtthem pounding at the postern gates. Old Conrad opened the gate incomplete ignorance of our presence in the garden. (We happened to bein a somewhat obscure nook and seated upon a stone bench--so he mustbe held blameless. ) The quartette brushed past the old man and I, hearing their chatter, foolishly exposed myself. 

I shall not attempt to describe the scene that followed their discoveryof the Countess Tarnowsy. Be it said, however, to the credit of Elsieand Betty Billy, the startled refugee was fairly smothered in kissesand tears and almost deafened by the shrill, delighted exclamationsthat fell from their eager lips. I doubt if there ever was such asensation before!

 * * * * * * *

They brought rather interesting news concerning the Count. It appearsthat he and the baron had quarrelled and at the time of my friends'departure from Vienna it was pretty generally understood that therewould be a duel. 

"I never liked the baron, " I said, with a grim smile that could nothave been misinterpreted, "but I hope to heavens _he_ isn't killed. "

Mrs. Titus sighed. "Tarnowsy is regarded as a wonderful marksman. "

"Worse luck!" growled Colingraft, gloomily twiddling his thumbs. 

"What kind of a shot is the baron?" asked Jasper Jr. , hopefully. 

No one was able to enlighten him, but Billy Smith shook his headdolefully. 

"Maris Tarnowsy is a dead shot. He'll pot the baron sure. "

"Hang it all, " said I, and then lapsed into a horrified silence. 

When the Hazzards and Smiths departed the next morning they were infull possession of all of our plans, hopes and secrets, but they werebound by promises that would have haunted them throughout all eternityif they allowed them to be violated. I do not recall having seen twomore intensely excited, radiant women in my life than Elsie and BettyBilly. They were in an ecstatic state of mind. Their husbands, butlittle less excited, offered to help us in every way possible, and, to prove their earnest, turned the prow of the motor-boat down-stream, abandoning the trip up the river in order to be in Vienna in case Ishould need them for any purpose whatsoever. 

"You may rest easy so far as I am concerned, Mrs. Titus, " said theyoung diplomat. "As a representative of the United States governmentI can't become publicly involved in this international muddle. I'vejust _got_ to keep my lips sealed. If it were discovered that I knew ofall this, my head would be under the snickersnee in no time at all. Swish! Officially suicided!"

At ten o'clock the next morning I was called to the telephone. Smithhad startling news to impart. Count Tarnowsy and Baron Umovitch hadengaged in a duel with pistols at sunrise and the latter had gone downwith a bullet through his lungs! He died an hour later. Tarnowsy, according to the rumours flying about official Vienna, was already onhis way to Berlin, where he would probably remain in seclusion untilthe affair blew over or imperial forgiveness was extended to him. 

There was cause for satisfaction among us, even though the baron hadfallen instead of the count. The sensational affair would serve tokeep Tarnowsy under cover for some weeks at least and minimise thedangers attending the Countess's flight from the castle. Still, I couldnot help feeling disappointed over the outcome of the meeting. Whycouldn't Count Tarnowsy have been the one to fall?

The Countess, very pale and distrait, gave utterance to her feelingsin a most remarkable speech. She said: "This is one of the few finethings that Maris has ever done. I am glad that he killed that man. He should have done so long ago, --the beast! He was--ugh!--the mostdespicable creature I've ever known. "

She said no more than this, but one could readily grasp all that sheleft unuttered. 

Colingraft rather sententiously remarked to little Rosemary, who couldnot have comprehended the words, of course: "Well, little Rosebud, your papa may be a spendthrift but he never wastes bullets. "

Which was entirely uncalled for, I contend. I was struck by the swiftlook of dread that leaped into Aline's eyes and her pallor. 

On top of all this came the astonishing news, by cipher despatch fromold Jasper Titus's principal adviser in London, that his offer of onemillion dollars had been declined by Tarnowsy two days before, theCount having replied through his lawyers that nothing short of twomillions would induce him to relinquish all claims to his child. 

I had been ignorant of this move in the case, and expressed my surprise. 

"I asked father to do it, Mr. Smart, " said the Countess dejectedly. "It seemed the easiest way out of our difficulties--and the cheapest. He will never give in to this new demand, though. We must make thebest of it. "

"But why did you suggest such a thing to him?" I demanded with heat. 

She looked hurt. "Because _you_ seemed to think it was the right andhonourable thing to do, " she said patiently. "I do not forget what yousaid to me, days and days ago, even though it may have slipped yourmind. You said that a bargain is a bargain and--well, I had Mr. Bangswrite father just what you thought about it. "

There was a suspicion of tears in her voice as she turned away andleft me without another word. She was quite out of sight around thebend in the staircase, and her little boots were clattering swiftlyupwards, before I fully grasped the significance of her explanation--or, I might better say, her reproach. It slowly dawned upon me thatI had said a great many things to her that it would pay me to rememberbefore questioning her motives in any particular. 

As the day for her departure drew nearer, --it was now but forty-eighthours away, --her manner seemed to undergo a complete change. She becamemoody, nervous, depressed. Of course, all this was attributable to thedread of discovery and capture when she was once outside the greatwalls of Schloss Rothhoefen. I could understand her feelings, andrather lamely attempted to bolster up her courage by making light ofthe supposed perils. 

She looked at me with a certain pathetic sombreness in her eyes thatcaused my heart to ache. All of her joyous raillery was gone, all ofher gentle arrogance. Her sole interest in life in these last daysseemed to be of a sacrificial nature. She was sweet and gentle withevery one, --with me in particular, I may say, --and there was somethingpositively humble in her attitude of self-abnegation. Where she hadonce been wilful and ironic, she was now gentle and considerate. Norwas I the only one to note these subtle changes in her. I doubt, however, if the others were less puzzled than I. In fact, Mrs. Tituswas palpably perplexed, and there were times when I caught her eyeingme with distinct disapproval, as if she were seeking in me the causeof her daughter's weaknesses; as much as to say: "What other nonsensehave you been putting into the poor child's head, you wretch?"

I went up to have a parting romp with Rosemary on the last night ofher stay with me, to have my last sip of honey from her delectableneck. The Countess paid but little attention to us. She sat over inthe window and stared out into the dusky shadows of the falling night. My heart was sore. I was miserable. The last romp!

Blake finally snatched Rosemary off to bed. It was then that theCountess aroused herself and came over to me with a sad little smileon her lips. 

"Good night, " she said, rather wistfully, holding out her hand to me. 

I deliberately glanced at my watch. "It's only ten minutes past eight, "I said, reproachfully. 

"I know, " she said, quietly. "Good night. "

CHAPTER XVIII

I SPEED THE PARTING GUEST

Four o'clock in the morning is a graceless hour. Graveyards may yawnat twelve but even they are content to slumber at four. I don't believethere is anything so desolate in this world as the mental perspectiveone obtains at four o'clock. Tombstones are bright beacons of cheeras compared to the monumental regret one experiences on getting up togreet the alleged and vastly over-rated glories of a budding day. Thesunrise is a pall! It is a deadly, dour thing. It may be pink and redand golden and full of all the splendours of the east, but it is aresurrection and you can't make anything else out of it. Staying uptill four and then going to bed gives one an idea of the sunrise thatis not supported by the facts; there is but one way to appreciate thereal nature of the hateful thing called dawn, and that is to get upwith it instead of taking it to bed with you. 

Still, I suppose the sun _has_ to come up and perhaps it is just as wellthat it does so at an hour when people are least likely to suspect it ofanything so shabby. 

Four o'clock is more than a graceless, sodden hour when it ushers ina day that you know is to be the unhappiest in your life; when youknow that you are to say farewell forever to the hopes begot andnurtured in other days; when the one you love smiles and goes away tosmile again but not for you. And that is just what four o'clock on themorning of the fourteenth of September meant to me. 

Britton and I set forth in the automobile just at the break of dawn, crossing the river a few miles below the castle, and running back toa point on the right hand bank where we were to await the arrivalof the boat conveying the Countess and her escort. Her luggage, carefully disguised as crated merchandise, had gone to Trieste by fastexpress a couple of days before, sent in my name and consigned to agentleman whose name I do not now recall, but who in reality servedas a sort of middleman in transferring the shipment to the custody ofa certain yacht's commander. 

It was required of me--and of my machine, which is more to thepoint--that the distance of one hundred and twenty miles through thefoothills of the Austrian Alps should be covered and the passengersdelivered at a certain railway station fifty miles or more south ofVienna before ten o'clock that night. There they were to catch a trainfor the little seaport on the upper Adriatic, the name of which I wassworn never to reveal, and, as I have not considered it worth whileto be released from that oath, I am of necessity compelled to omit themention of it here. 

Mr. Bangs went on to Vienna the night before our departure, takingwith him Helene Marie Louise Antoinette, a rather shocking arrangementyou would say unless you had come to know the British lawyer as wellas we knew him. They were to proceed by the early morning train tothis obscure seaport. Colingraft Titus elected to accompany his sisterthe entire length of the journey, with the faithful Blake and Rosemary. 

Billy Smith was to meet us a few miles outside the town for which wewere bound, with a word of warning if there was anything sinister inthe wind. 

I heard afterwards from Poopendyke that the departure of the Countessand Rosemary from the castle in the grey; forlorn dawn of that historicfourteenth was attended by a demonstration of grief on the part of thefour Schmicks that was far beyond his powers of description, and hepossesses a wonderful ability to describe lachrymose situations, ratherrunning to that style of incident, I may say. The elder Schmicks wailedand boo-hooed and proclaimed to the topmost turrets that the sun wouldnever shine again for either of them, and, to prove that she was quitein earnest about the matter, Gretel fell off the dock into the riverand was nearly drowned before Jasper, Jr. , could dive in and get her. Their sons, both of whom cherished amorous feelings for Blake, sighedso prodigiously all the way down the river that the boat rocked. Incidentally, during the excitement, Jinko, who was to remain behindand journey westward later on with Mrs. Titus and Jasper, Jr. , succeededafter weeks of vain endeavour in smartly nipping the calf of Hawkes'left leg, a feat of which he no doubt was proud but which sentencedmy impressive butler to an everlasting dread of hydrophobia and atemporary limp. 

It was nearing five o'clock when the boat slipped into view around thetree-covered point of land and headed straight for our hiding placeon the bank. 

I shall not stop here to describe the first stage of our journey throughthe narrow, rocky by-roads that ended eventually in the broad, alpinehighway south and west of Vienna. Let it be sufficient to say that wejostled along for twelve or fifteen miles without special incident, although we were nervously anxious and apprehensive. Our guide bookpointed, or rather twiddled, a route from the river flats into thehills, where we came up with the main road about eight o'clock. Wewere wrapped and goggled to the verge of ludicrousness. It would havebeen quite impossible to penetrate our motor-masks and armour, evenfor one possessed of a keen and practiced eye. The Countess was heavilyveiled; great goggles bulged beneath the green, gauzy thing thatprotected her lovely face from sun, wind and man. A motor coat, twoor three sizes too large, enveloped her slender, graceful figure, andgauntlets covered her hands. Even Rosemary's tiny face was wrapped ina silken veil of white. As for the rest of us, we could not have beenmistaken for anything on earth but American automobilists, ruthlesslyinspired to see Europe with the sole view to comparing her roads withour own at home. You would have said, on seeing us, that we knew agreat deal about roads and very little about home. 

Colingraft and Britton, --the latter at the wheel, --sat in the frontseat, while I shared the broad cushions of the tonneau with theCountess, part of the time holding Rosemary, who was clamouring forfood, and the rest of the time holding my breath in the fear that wemight slip over a precipice. I am always nervous when not driving thecar myself. 

We stopped for breakfast at a small mountain inn, fifteen miles fromour starting place. The Countess, a faint red spot in each cheek anda curiously bright, feverish glow in her dark eyes, revealed a tendencyto monopolise the conversation, a condition properly attributed tonervous excitement. I could see that she was vastly thrilled by theexperiences of the hour; her quick, alert brain was keeping pace withthe rush of blood that stimulated every fibre in her body to newactivities. She talked almost incessantly, and chiefly about mattersentirely foreign to the enterprise in hand. 

The more I see of women, the less I know about them. Why she shouldhave spent the whole half hour devoted to breakfast to a surprisinglyinnocuous dissertation on Schopenhauer and Nietzsche is--or was--beyond me. 

How was I to know that tears lay close to the surface of thoseshimmering, vivacious eyes? How was I to know that sobs took refugebehind a simulated interest in philosophy?

We had luncheon picnic fashion half-way to our journey's end, divergingfrom the main road to find a secluded spot where we could spread ourcloth and open our hampers without fear of interruption or, to use amore sinister word, detection. It was rather a jolly affair, that firstand last al fresco banquet of ours under the spreading branches ofmighty trees and beside the trickling waters of a gay little mountainbrook that hurried like mad down to the broad channel of the Danube, now many miles away. The strain of the first few hours had slackened. Success seemed assured. We had encountered no difficulties, no dangersin town or country. No one appeared to be interested in us exceptthrough idle curiosity; villagers and peasants stared at us and grinned;policemen and soldiers stood aside to let us pass, or gave directionspolitely when requested to do so. There were no signs of pursuit, noindications of trouble ahead. And so we could afford to be gay andconfident at our midday meal in the hills bordering the broad highway. 

We even went so far as to arrange for a jolly reunion in New York Cityat no distant day! I remember distinctly that we were to dine atSherry's. To me, the day seemed a long way off. 

I suppose, being a writer of fiction, I should be able to supply atthis point in the narrative, a series of thrilling, perhaps hair-raisingencounters with the enemy, in the form of spies, cut-throats, imperialmercenaries or whatever came handiest to the imagination. It would bea very simple matter to transform this veracious history into the mostlurid of melodramas by the introduction of the false and bizarre, butit is not my purpose to do so. I mean to adhere strictly to the truthand stand by the consequences. Were I inclined to sensationalism itwould be no trouble at all for me to have Tarnowsy's agents shootingat our tires or gasoline tank from every crag and cranny; or to haveRosemary kidnapped by aeroplanists supplied with drag-hooks; or tohave the Countess lodged in a village prison from which I should beobliged to liberate her with battle-axe and six-shooter, my compensationbeing a joyous rest in a hospital with the fair Aline nursing me backto health and strength and cooing fond words in my rapacious ear thewhile I reflected on the noble endowments of a nature that heretoforehad been commonplace and meek. But, no! None of these things happenedand I decline to perjure myself for the privilege of getting into thelist of "six best sellers. "

So far as I am able to judge, there was absolutely no heroism displayedduring our flight through the hills and valleys, unless you are willingto accept as such a single dash of sixty miles an hour which Brittonmade in order to avoid a rain-shower that threatened to flank us ifwe observed the speed laws. 

But wait! There was an example of bravado on my part that shall notgo unrecorded. I hesitated at first to put it down in writing, but mysense of honour urges me to confess everything. It happened just afterthat memorable picnic luncheon in the shady dell. The Countess, Imaintain, was somewhat to blame for the incident. She suggested thatwe, --that is to say, the two of us, --explore the upper recesses ofthis picturesque spot while the others were making ready for theresumption of our journey. 

Shame, contrition, humiliation or whatever you may elect to call it, forbids a lengthy or even apologetic explanation of what followed herunfortunate suggestion. I shall get over with it in as few words aspossible. 

In the most obscure spot in all those ancient hills, I succumbed toan execrable impulse to take her forcibly in my arms and kiss her! Idon't know why I did it, or how, but that is just what happened. Myshame, my horror over the transcendental folly was made almostunbearable by the way in which she took it. At first I thought she hadswooned, she lay so limp and unresisting in my arms. My only excuse, whispered penitently in her ear, was that I couldn't help doing whatI had done, and that I deserved to be drawn and quartered for takingadvantage of my superior strength and her gentle forbearance. Strangeto say, she merely looked at me in a sort of dumb wonder and quietlyreleased herself, still staring at me as if I were the most inexplicablepuzzle in the world. Her cheeks, her throat, her brow grew warm andpink with a just indignation; her lips parted but she uttered no word. Then I followed her dejectedly, cravenly back to the roadside andexecuted an inward curse that would hang over my miserable head solong as it was on my shoulders. 

Her vivacity was gone. She shrank down into the corner of the seat, and, with her back half turned toward me, gazed steadfastly at thepanoramic valley which we were skirting. From time to time I glanced, at her out of the corners of my eyes, and eventually was somewhatrelieved to see that she had closed her own and was dozing. My soulwas in despair. She loathed, despised me. I could not blame her. Idespised myself. 

And yet my heart quickened every time I allowed myself to think of thecrime I had committed. 

The day was a glorious one and the road more than passably good. Webowled along at a steady rate of speed and sundown found us abouttwenty-five miles from our destination. Not caring to run the risk ofa prolonged stay in the town, we drew up at a roadside inn and had ourdinner in the quaint little garden, afterwards proceeding leisurelyby moonlight down the sloping highway. 

Billy Smith met us six or eight miles out and we stopped to parley. He examined the Countess's skilfully prepared passports, pronouncedthem genuine (!), and then gave us the cheerful news that "everythingwas lovely and the goose hung high. " The train for the coast was dueto leave the Staats-bahn-hof at 10. 05, and we had an hour to spare. He proposed that we spend it quite comfortably at the roadside whileBritton went through the pretence of repairing our tires. This seemedan agreeable arrangement for every one but Britton, who looked so glumthat I, glad of the excuse, offered to help him. 

No sooner was I out of the car and Billy Smith in my place beside theCountess than she became quite gay and vivacious once more. She laughedand chatted with him in a manner that promptly convinced me thatpropinquity so far as I was concerned had had a most depressing effectupon her, and that she revelled in the change of companions. 

I was so disturbed by the discovery that Britton had to caution meseveral times to handle the inner tubes less roughly or I _would_ damagethem and we might suffer a blow-out after all. 

Every one appeared to be gay and frivolous, even Blake, who chattered_sotto voce_ with Britton, that excellent rascal spending most of histime leaning against the spare tires in order to catch what she wassaying for his benefit. All efforts to draw me into the generalconversation were unavailing. I was as morose and unresponsive as anEgyptian mummy, and for a very excellent reason, I submit. The Countessdeliberately refused to address a single remark to me. Indeed, whenI seemed perilously near to being drawn into the conversation sherelapsed into a silence that was most forbidding. My cup of misery wasoverflowing. 

I wondered if she would feel called upon, at some distant confessional, to tell the fortunate Lord Amberdale that I had brutally kissed her. And Lord Amberdale would grin in his beastly supercilious English wayand say: "What else could you have expected from a bally Americanbounder?" She would no doubt smile indulgently. 

Heigh-ho!

All things come to an end, however. We found ourselves at last utteringour good-byes in the railway station, surrounded by hurrying travellersand attended by eager porters. 

The Countess did not lift her veil. I deliberately drew her aside. Myhot hand clasped hers, and found it as cold as ice and trembling. 

"For God's sake, " I whispered hoarsely in my humbleness, "say that youforgive me?"

She did not speak for many seconds. Then her voice was very low andtremulous. I felt that her sombre eyes were accusing me even as theytried to meet my own with a steadiness that was meant to be reassuring. 

"Of course I forgive you, " she said. "You have been so good to me. "

"Good!" I cried bitterly. "I've been harsh, unreasoning, super-criticalfrom the day I met--"

"Hush!" she said, laying her free hand upon my arm. "I shall neverforget all that you have done for me. I--I can say no more. "

I gulped. "I pray to heaven that you may be happy, Aline, --happierthan any one else in the world. "

She lowered her head suddenly, and I was made more miserable thanbefore by hearing a quick, half-suppressed sob. Then she withdrew hercold little hand and turned away to follow Colingraft who had calledout to her. 

I saw them board the train. In my heart there was the memory of a dozenkisses I had bestowed in repentant horror upon the half-asleep Rosemary, who, God bless her little soul, cried bitterly on being torn away frommy embrace. 

"Well, " said Billy Smith, taking me by the arm a few minutes later, "let's have a bite to eat and a cold bottle before we go to bed, oldchap. I hope to heaven she gets through all right. Damme, I am strongfor her, aren't you?"

"I am, " said I, with conviction, coming out of a daze. 

He led me off to a cafe where he seemed to be more or less at home, and where it was bright and gay for him but gloomier than the graveto me. 

 * * * * * * *

I drove the car home the next day. When we got down at the garage, Britton shivered and drew a prodigious breath. It was as if he had notbreathed for hours. We had gone the distance in little more than halfthe time taken on the trip down. 

"My word, sir, " was all he said, but there was a significant tremorin his voice. It smacked of pride. 

Mrs. Titus placidly inquired how we had got along, and appeared quiterelieved when I told her we had caught the train at K---. Jasper, Jr. , revealed a genuine interest in the enterprise, but spoiled it all bysaying that Aline, now prematurely safe, was most likely to leap outof the frying-pan into the fire by marrying some blithering foreignerand having the whole beastly business to do over again. 

"How soon do they go?" asked Poopendyke late that afternoon, afterlistening to Mrs. Titus's amiable prophecies concerning Aline's futureactivities, and getting my harassed ear in a moment of least resistance. 

"I don't know, " said I, hopelessly. I had heard about all I couldendure concerning his lordship's magnificent estates in England, andthe sort of a lord he was besides. "There's nothing to do but wait, Fred. "

"She is a remarkably fine woman but--" He completed the estimate byshaking his head, trusting to my intelligence, I suppose. 

We waited two days for word from the fugitives. Late in the afternoonof the second day, Britton returned from town with a telegram for me. It said:

"Cargo safely aboard _Pendennis_, Captain Pardee commanding. Clear attwo to-day. Everything satisfactory. (Signed) C. G. RAFT. "

No sooner was this reassuring news received than Mrs. Titus complacentlyset about having her trunks packed. The entire household was in a stewof activity, for she had suddenly decided to catch the eight o'clocktrain for Paris. I telephoned to reserve accommodation on the OrientExpress from Vienna, and also to have it stopped at the town acrossthe river, a concession secured at a no inconsiderable cost. 

She was to travel once more as my mother. 

"You will not fail to look us up when you come to New York, will you, Mr. Smart? Mr. Titus will not be happy until he has expressed to youin person his endless gratitude. You have been splendid. We shall neverforget your kindness, your thoughtfulness, your--your forbearance. I--I--"

Upon my word, there were real tears in the dear lady's eyes! I forgotand forgave much in recognition of this instant of genuine feeling onher part. It was not necessary for her to complete the sentence sohumbly begun. 

Their departure was made with some degree of caution, Mrs. Titus ratherconsiderately reminding herself that my interests were at stake. I sawthem aboard the train; she played her part admirably, I will say thatfor her. She lifted her veil so that I could bestow a farewell filialkiss upon her cheek. Jasper, Jr. 's, eyes popped very wide open at this, and, as he shook my hand warmly at parting, he said:

"You are a wonder, John, --a sure enough wonder. Why, hang it all, shedoesn't even let dad do that. "

But Jasper, Jr. , was very young and he couldn't understand. 

At last we were to ourselves, my extensive household and I. Late thatnight I sat in my study considering the best means of reducing my staffof servants and in computing, with dismay, the cost of being a princelyhost to people who had not the least notion what it meant to do sumsin economic subtraction. It was soon apparent to me that retrenchment, stern and relentless, would have to follow upon my wild though briefseason of profligacy. I decided to dismiss the scullery-maid. 

I was indescribably lonely. Poopendyke was worried about my pallor, my lassitude. At the end of a week, he took it upon himself to dropa line to the Hazzards, urging them to run out for a visit in the hopethat company might take me out of myself. All attempts to renew mywork on the ill-fated novel met with utter failure. The power of mentalconcentration was gone. I spent most of my time in the garden. 

The Hazzards came and with them the joyously beautiful Betty Billy. Poopendyke must have prepared them for the task in hand, for theyproceeded at once to transform the bleak, dreary old castle into asort of hilarious merry-go-round, with me in the very Tortex of itall. They succeeded in taking me "out of myself, " I will say that forthem. My spirits took an upward bound and, wonderful to relate, retainedtheir altitude in spite of all I could do to lower them. I did notwant to be happy; I figured that I owed it to my recently arousedtemperament to be permanently unhappy. But the wind blew another wayand I drifted amiably with it, as a derelict drifts with the currentsof the ocean but preferably with the warm gulf stream. 

We had word from Mrs. Titus, in London, that negotiations had beenreopened with the Count, and that a compromise might be expected. Theobdurate nobleman had agreed, it seemed, to meet Jasper Titus's lawyersin Paris at no distant date. My chief concern however was for theCountess herself. That she had successfully reached the high seas wasapparent; if not, the newspapers, which I read with eagerness, wouldhave been filled with accounts of her seizure. We eagerly awaited thepromised cablegram from New York, announcing her safe arrival there. 

Smith joined us at the end of the week. I nerved myself to questionhim about the Englishman. 

"Splendid fellow, " said he, with discouraging fervour. "One of thefinest chaps I know, eh, George?"

"For an Englishman, " admitted Hazzard. 

"He's a gentleman, and that's more than you can say for the rag-tagof nobility that paid court to Aline Tarnowsy. He was in love withher, but he was a gentleman about it. A thoroughbred, I say. "

"Good looking?" I enquired. 

"Well, rather! The sort of chap women rave about. Ask Betty. She wasmad about him. But he couldn't see anything in her. I think she hateshim now. He had eyes for no one but the fair Countess. An awful grindon Betty. She's used to something different. "

Hazzard studied the clouds that drifted over our heads. "I wonder ifAline cared anything for him. "

"I've always believed that she liked him better than she cared toadmit, even to herself. "

"I fancy he'll not let any grass grow under his feet, now that she'sfree, " said Dr. Hazzard. 

"Think she'll have him?"

"Why not? He has a much better position in England than Tarnowsy hashere, and he's not after her money. I hate to say it, but Aline is aseeker after titles. She wouldn't be averse to adding 'your ladyship'to her collection. "

"Oh, come!" I protested. "That is a nasty thing to say, George. "

"She may have been regenerated, " he said obligingly. "You know herbetter than I do, old chap. What say?"

"I didn't say anything, " I muttered. 

"I thought you did. "

I hesitated a moment and then purged myself of the truth. "As a matterof fact, I have reason to believe she's in love with Amberdale and hasbeen for a long time. I'm not saying it in disparagement, believe me. God knows she's entitled to something decent and fine in the shape oflove. I hope he's good enough for her. "

They looked at me with interest, and Smith broke the momentary silence. 

"Oh, he's good enough for her, " he said, with a queer smile. 

"I'm glad of that, " I said gruffly. 

"The old la--I mean Mrs. Titus will be tickled to death if the matchis pulled off, " said Hazzard. 

"She was tickled the first time, " said I sententiously, and changedthe subject. There was no sense in prolonging the agony. 

Toward the close of their visit, a message arrived from the Countessherself, signed with the fictitious name we had agreed upon. The newsshe gave caused us to celebrate that night. We had a bonfire in thecourtyard and drank to the god of Good Luck. 

"Cargo safely landed in New York and forwarded to the Adirondacks forstorage and to await the appearance of a claimant. Former owner hasagreed to accept million and a half and release all claims. When areyou coming over? (Signed) Alrose. "

By the most extraordinary coincidence, a curt, business-like letterarrived in the evening post from Maris Tarnowsy, post-marked Paris. Its contents staggered me. 

"_John Bellamy Smart, Esquire. _

"Dear Mr. Smart: Will you put a price on Schloss Rothhoefen? I amdesirous of purchasing the castle if you care to sell and we can agreeupon a fair price for the property. Sentiment moves me in this matterand I earnestly hope that you may be induced to part with your whiteelephant. If you will be so kind as to wire your decision, you willfind me deeply grateful, and at the Ritz for the ensuing fortnight. 

"Faithfully yours, "MARIS TARNOWSY. "

My "white elephant!" I was so eager to get rid of it that I would havewired at once, naming a figure proportionately low had it not been forthe united protests of my four friends and the canny advice of Mr. Poopendyke. 

"Soak him, " said he, and I arose to the occasion. 

I waited for three days and then telegraphed him that I would not takea heller less than two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, more thandoubling the price I had paid for the property. I was prepared, however, to come down a paltry hundred thousand or so if he revealed signs ofreluctance. 

We built another bonfire that night and danced around it like so manysavages. 

"Terms acceptable. Will come to Schloss Rothhoefen at once to completethe transfer. 

"TARNOWSY. "

CHAPTER XIX

I BURN A FEW BRIDGES

Accompanied by Hazzard and Smith, I went over the castle from top tobottom, in quest of the reason for Tarnowsy's prompt acceptance of mydemand. We made no doubt that he had a good and sufficient reason forwanting the place, and but one thing suggested itself to ourimagination: his absolute certainty that treasure was hidden somewhereabout the venerable pile, treasure of considerable magnitude, you maybe sure, or he would not have revealed such alacrity in accepting myterms. Sentiment had nothing to do with this surprising move on hispart. That was all bosh. He had an ulterior motive, and it was for meto get the better of him at his own game if I could. While I was eagerto get rid of the castle at any price, I did not relish the thoughtof being laughed at for a fool by Maris Tarnowsy after he had laid hisgreedy hands upon treasure that had been mine without my knowledge. 

He was no fool. The castle meant nothing to him as a home or as aninvestment. No doubt he would blow it to pieces in order to unearththe thing he knew its walls secreted. 

We spent two unprofitable days in going over the place, and in the endsank down tired, defeated and without the slightest evidence in ourpossession that so much as a half crown lay hidden there as treasure-trove. I gave in and announced that if Tarnowsy could find anythingworth having he was entitled to it so far as I was concerned, and Iwouldn't begrudge him a farthing's worth. 

He telegraphed that he would arrive on the morning of the third day, accompanied by his lawyer, a notary and an architect. My four guestsdeparted in haste by the late night train, after extracting a promisefrom me to join them in Vienna when I was no longer the master ofSchloss Rothhoefen. I rather relished the thought of a brief vacation!

Then, like the spider, I crept back into my web and waited for thefoolish fly, knowing all the time that he would have the better of mein the long run. 

I confess to a feeling of sadness in parting with the place, afterall, elephantine though it was in every sense of the word. Within itsgrey and ancient walls that beautiful thing called love had come tome, to live with me forever. It had come unbidden, against my will, against my better judgment, and in spite of my prejudices, but stillit was a thing to cherish and to hold in its virgin youth all throughthe long years to come. It would always be young and sweet androse-coloured, this unrequited love of mine. Walking through the empty, dismantled rooms that had once been hers, I grew sick with longing, and, in something like fear, fled downward, absurd tears blinding myeyes. Verily, I was a fool, --a monstrous, silly fool!

Tarnowsy was as bland and smiling as a May morning as he came jauntilydown the great hall to where I awaited him. 

"I am here incognito, my dear Smart, " he said, extending his glovedhand, which I took perforce. "Sub rosa, you might say, " he went onwith a wry smile. "A stupid, unchivalric empire has designs upon me, perfunctorily perhaps, but it's just as well not to stir up the monkeys, as you Americans would put it. "

"Our late friend, the baron, was not totally without friends, I takeit, " said I drily. 

He made a grimace. "Nor enemies, " he declared. "Brave men usually havemore enemies than friends, and he was a brave man, a truly brave man. Because he was a brave man I have no feeling of regret over the outcomeof our--er--meeting. It is no honour to kill a coward, Mr. Smart. "

He introduced his three companions. I was surprised to see that thelawyer was not the fawning Schymansky, and later on inquired for him. Tarnowsy laughed. "Poor old Schymansky! He is in prison. "

"Aha! I am not surprised, " said I. 

"He was my second, poor chap. It did not occur to him to run away afterthe--er--duel. They had to make an example of some one. His trial comesup next week. I am afraid he may be dealt with rather harshly. I misshim dreadfully. But let us come to the matter in hand, Mr. Smart. Idaresay your time is valuable. You have no objection to my going overthe place with Mr. Saks, I am sure. He is the architect who is torebuild the castle for me. My attorney and Mr. Pooly, --thenotary, --will, with your assistance, draw up the proper contractspreliminary to the formal transfer, and I will sign them with you uponmy return. "

"Would it not be better to discuss the question of payments before wego any further, Count Tarnowsy?"

"You will be paid in cash, Mr. Smart, the instant the deed istransferred, " he said coldly. 

I followed him to the top of the stairs which descended to the basementof the castle. It was rather significant that he elected to explorethe lower regions first of all. 

"I shall accompany you, " said I deliberately. 

A faint scowl came into his face. He eyed me fixedly for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and said that his only desire was to avoidputting me to any unnecessary trouble. If I cared to come, he wouldbe more than grateful. "It isn't necessary to visit the cellars, Saks, "he said to the architect. "Ample time for that sort of rummaging. Iparticularly want your opinion on the condition of the intersectingwalls on this floor and above. My scheme of improvements, Mr. Smart, contemplates the enlargement of these halls by throwing them into one. "

"A very simple process, " said I, "if the whole structure doesn't toppledown upon your heads while you're about it. "

"I shall contrive to save my scalp, Mr. Smart, no matter what happens. It is very precious to me. "

We went over the castle rather hurriedly, I thought, but he explainedthat Saks merely wanted a general idea of the structure; he wouldreturn another day to make a careful inspection. 

"I daresay you are surprised that I should be willing to pay doubleyour original price for Schloss Rothhoefen, " he ventured, pausing inthe corridor to light a cigarette. We were on our way to the top ofthe east wing. 

"Oh, no, " I said calmly. "I am aware that treasure is buried here. Asa matter of fact, I've tried to unearth it myself, but without success. I wish you better luck. "

"Thanks, " said he laconically, after the first swift glance of inquiry. "It is doubtless a fairy tale, handed down by tradition. I take nostock in it. My principal object in acquiring Rothhoefen is to satisfya certain vanity which besets me. I have it on excellent authoritythat my ex-father-in-law, --the man Titus, you know, --talks of buyingthe property and performing the stupendous, characteristic Americanfeat of removing it, stone and timber, just as it is, to his estatenorth of New York City. No one but a vulgar, purse-proud American wouldthink of doing such a thing. "

The news staggered me. Could there be anything in what he said? If itwas true that Jasper Titus contemplated such a quixotic move, therecould be but one compelling force behind the whim: sentiment. But notsentiment on the part of Jasper Titus. 

"I cannot believe that he considers doing such a thing, " I said ratherblankly. "You see, if any one should know, I am that one. He has notapproached me, of that you may be sure. "

He did not appear to be interested. "My information is notauthoritative, Mr. Smart, " said he. "It came to me through myrepresentatives who conferred with his lawyers a fortnight ago inregard to certain difficulties that had existed between us. From whatthey were able to gather, the idea has taken root in the old man'shead. Now, I want to buy this place for no other reason than to tellhim that he hasn't enough money in his possession to purchase it fromme. D'you see? Vanity, you may call it, as I do, but it pleases me tocoddle it. "

Very thoughtfully I strode along beside him. Would I be serving theCountess ill or well by selling the place to Tarnowsy? It was _her_whim, of course, and it was a foolish one. 

"Suppose that he offered you twice what you are to pay me for theplace, " said I, struck by a sudden thought. 

He laughed easily. "You will not, it seems, acquit me of cupidity, Mr. Smart. I should not sell to him under any consideration. That is final. Take it or leave it. "

By this time we were in the rooms once occupied by the Countess. Heglanced about the apartment carelessly. 

"Deserted, I observe, " he remarked with a queer smile. 

My heart almost stood still. "Eh? What do you mean?"

"If I am not mistaken, these are the rooms once occupied by your valet'swife. Am I right?"

I steadied myself. "She has gone away, " I said. "Couldn't stand theclimate. "

"I see, " said he, but he was still smiling. "How does your valet standit?"

"Nicely, " said I, with a conscious blush. 

"I mean the separation, of course. "

"Certainly. He is used to it. "

"Isn't it rather odd that he should still think she is here, in thecastle?"

"Does he?" I murmured. 

"I inquired for her when I encountered him downstairs. He said she wasquite well this morning, except for a headache. "

"She is subject to headaches, I believe, " said I, with the utmostnonchalance. He lifted his right eyebrow slightly, but said no moreon the subject. 

A pile of rubbish lay heaped in one corner of the room, swept up andleft there by the big Schmicks to await the spring house cleaningseason I presume. Tarnowsy at first eyed the heap curiously, thenrather intently. Suddenly he strode across the room and gingerly rootedamong the odds and ends with the toe of his highly polished boot. 

To my horror a dilapidated doll detached itself and rolled out uponthe floor, --a well-remembered treasure of Rosemary's and so unique inappearance that I doubt if there was another in the world like it. Indeed, I have a distinct recollection of being told that the child'sfather had painted in the extraordinary features and had himselfdecorated the original flaxen locks with singular stripes of red andwhite and blue, a sardonic tribute to the home land of her mother. 

I turned away as he stooped and picked up the soiled, discarded effigy. When next I looked at him, out of the corner of my eye, he was holdingthe doll at arm's length and staring at it with a fixed gaze. I knewthat he recognised it. There could be no doubt in his mind as to theidentity of that tell-tale object. My heart was thumping fiercely. 

An instant later he rejoined me, but not a word did he utter concerningthe strange discovery he had made. His face was set and pallid, andhis eyes were misty. Involuntarily I looked to see if he had the dollin his hand, and in that glance observed the bulging surface of hiscoat pocket. 

In silence we stood there awaiting the reappearance of Saks, who hadgone into one of the adjoining rooms. I confess that my hand trembledas I lighted a fresh cigarette. He was staring moodily at the floor, his hands clasped behind his back. Something smacking of realintelligence ordered me to hold my tongue. I smoked placidly, yetwaited for the outburst. It did not come. It never came. He kept histhoughts, his emotions to himself, and for that single display ofrestraint on his part I shall always remember him as a true descendantof the nobility. 

We tramped down the long flights of stairs side by side, followed bythe superfluous Mr. Saks, who did all of the talking. He was, I think, discoursing on the extraordinary ability of ancient builders, but Iam not absolutely certain. I am confident Tarnowsy did not hear a wordthe fellow said. 

In my study we found Poopendyke and the two strangers. 

"Have you made out the papers?" demanded the Count harshly. An uglygleam had come to his eyes, but he did not direct it toward me. Indeed, he seemed to avoid looking at me at all. 

"Yes, Count Tarnowsy, " said the lawyer. "They are ready for thesignatures. "

"Perhaps Mr. Smart may have reconsidered his offer to sell, " saidTarnowsy. "Let him see the contracts. "

"I have not reconsidered, " I said quietly. 

"You may sign here, Mr. Smart, " said the notary, as he gave me thedocument, a simple contract, I found. 

"Jasper Titus will offer more than I can afford to pay, " said theCount. "Please do not feel that I am taking an unfair advantage ofyou. I am absolutely certain that he wants to buy this place for--hisgranddaughter, a descendant of barons. "

The significance of this remark was obvious, and it was the nearesthe ever came to uttering the conviction that had been formed in thatilluminating five minutes upstairs. If he suspected, --and I think hedid, --he preferred not to ask the questions that must have been searinghis curious brain. It was a truly wonderful demonstration ofself-restraint. I would have given much to have been able to read hisinnermost thoughts, to watch the perplexed movements of his mind. 

"Schloss Rothhoefen is yours, Count Tarnowsy, " said I. "It is for youto say whether his whim shall be gratified. "

His lips twitched. I saw his hand touch the bulging coat-pocket witha swift, passing movement. 

"Will you be good enough to sign, Mr. Smart?" he said coldly. He glancedat his watch. "My time is valuable. When can you give possession?"

"The day the deed is transferred. "

"That will be in less than three days. I have satisfied myself thatthe title is clear. There need be no delay. "

We signed the contract after I had requested Poopendyke to read italoud to me. It called for the payment of fifty thousand kronen, ora little over two thousand pounds sterling, at the time of signing. His lawyer handed me a package of crisp banknotes and asked me to countthem. I did so deliberately, the purchaser looking on with a sardonicsmile. 

"Correct, " said I, laying the package on the table. He bowed verydeeply. 

"Are you satisfied, Mr. Smart, that there are no counterfeits amongthem?" he inquired with polite irony. Then to his lawyer: "Take thegentleman's receipt for the amount in the presence of witnesses. Thisis a business transaction, not a game of chance. " It was the insultperfect. 

As he prepared to take his departure, he assumed an insinuating airof apology, and remarked to me:

"I owe you an apology, Mr. Smart. There was a time when I did you aninjustice. I suspected you of keeping your mistress here. Pray forgivemy error. "

Five days later I was snugly ensconced in the ducal suite at theBristol, overlooking the Kartnerring-strasse, bereft of my baronialpossessions but not at all sorry. My romance had been short-lived. Itis one thing to write novels about mediaeval castles and quite anotherthing to try to write a novel in one of them. I trust I may never againbe guilty of such arrant stupidity as to think that an American-borncitizen can become a feudal baron by virtue of his dollars and cents, any more than an American-born girl can hope to be a real, dyed-in-the-wool countess or duchess because some one needs the moneymore than she does. It would be quite as impossible, contrariwise, to transform a noble duke into a plain American citizen, so there youare, even up. 

My plans were made. After a fortnight in Vienna, I expected to go westto London for the autumn, and then back to New York. Strange to relate, I was homesick. Never before had my thoughts turned so restlessly, sowistfully to the haunts of my boyhood days. I began to long for thelights of Broadway (which I had scornfully despised in other days), and the gay peacockery of Fifth Avenue at four in the afternoon. Itseemed to me that nowhere in all the world was life so joyous andblithe and worth while as in "old New York"; nowhere were the theatresso attractive, nowhere such restaurants. Even, in retrospect, thesubway looked alluring, and as for the Fifth Avenue stages they weretoo beautiful for words. Ah, what a builder of unreal things a spellof homesickness may become if one gives it half a chance!

As for Schloss Rothhoefen, I had it on excellent authority (no lessa person than Conrad Schmick himself) that barely had I shaken thedust of the place from myself before the new master put into executiona most extraordinary and incomprehensible plan of reconstruction. Inthe first place, he gave all the servants two weeks' notice, and thenbegan to raze the castle from the bottom upward instead of the otherway round, as a sensible person might have been expected to do. He wasknocking out the walls in the cellars and digging up the stone floorswith splendid disregard for that ominous thing known as a cataclysm. The grave question in the minds of the servants was whether the usualand somewhat mandatory two weeks' notice wouldn't prove a trifle toolong after all. In fact, Hawkes, with an inspiration worthy of anoffice boy, managed to produce a sick grand-mother and got away fromthe place at the end of one week, although having been paid in fullfor two. 

The day on which I left for Paris still saw Tarnowsy at work with hismasons, heroically battering down the walls of the grim old stronghold, and I chuckled to myself. It was quite evident that he hadn't foundthe hiding place up to that time. 

After several days in Paris, I took myself off to London. I wasexpecting letters at Claridge's, where I always take rooms, not becauseI think it is the best hotel in London but because I am, to some extent, a creature of habit. My mother took me to Claridge's when I was a boyand I saw a wonderful personage at the door whom I was pleased to callthe King. Ever since then I have been going to Claridge's and whilemy first king is dead there is one in his place who bids fair to livelong, albeit no one shouts encouragement to him. He wears the mostgorgeous buttons I've ever seen, and I doubt if King Solomon himselfcould have been more regal. Certainly not Nebuchadnezzar. He worksfrom seven in the morning until seven at night, and he has an imperialscorn for anything smaller than half a sovereign. 

There were many letters waiting there for me, but not one from theCountess Aline. I had encouraged the hope that she might write to me;it was the least she could do in return for all that I had done forher, notwithstanding my wretched behaviour on the last day of ourassociation. While I had undoubtedly offended in the most flagrantmanner, still my act was not unpardonable. There was tribute, notoutrage in my behaviour. 

Poopendyke fidgeted a good deal with the scanty results of my literarylabours, rattling the typed pages in a most insinuating way. He oiledhis machine with accusative frequency, but I failed to respond. I wasin no mood for writing. He said to me one day:

"I don't see why you keep a secretary, Mr. Smart. I don't begin toearn my salt. "

"Salt, Mr. Poopendyke, " said I, "is the cheapest thing I know of. Nowif you had said pepper I might pause to reflect. But I am absolutely, inexorably opposed to rating anything on a salt basis. If you--"

"You know what I mean, " he said stiffly. "I am of no use to you. "

"Ah, " said I triumphantly, "but you forget! Who is it that draws thesalary checks for yourself and Britton, and who keeps the accountsstraight? Who, I repeat? Why, you, Mr. Poopendyke. You draw the checks. Isn't that something?"

"If--if I didn't know you so well, I wouldn't hesitate to call you ablooming fool, Mr. Smart, " said he, but he grinned as he said it. 

"But he who hesitates is lost, " said I. "This is your chance, don'tlet it slip. " He looked at me so steadily for a moment that I was insome fear he would not let it slip. 

Before I had been in London a week it became perfectly clear to methat I could not stretch my stay out to anything like a period of twomonths. Indeed, I began to think about booking my passage home insideof two weeks. I was restless, dissatisfied, homesick. On the ninth dayI sent Poopendyke to the booking office of the steamship company withinstructions to secure passage for the next sailing of the_Mauretania_, and then lived in a state of positive dread for fear theconfounded American tourists might have gobbled up all of the cabins. They are always going home it seems to me, and they are always trying toget on a single unfortunate ship. In all my experience abroad, I'venever known a time when Americans were not tumbling over each othertrying to get back to New York in time to catch a certain train forhome, wherever that may be. But Poopendyke managed it somehow. He musthave resorted to bribery. 

I awoke one morning to find a long and--I was about to sayinteresting--letter from the Countess! It was a very commonplacecommunication I found on the third or fourth reading. The sum andsubstance of its contents was the information that she was going toVirginia Hot Springs with the family for a month or two and that LordAmberdale was to join them there. 

It appeared that her father, being greatly overworked, was in need ofa rest, and as the golf links at Hot Springs are especially designedto make it easy for rich men, his doctor had ordered him to thatdelightful resort. She hoped the rest would put him on his feet again. There was a page or so of drivel about Amberdale and what he expectedto do at the New York Horse Show, a few lines concerning Rosemary; anda brief, almost curt intimation that a glimpse or two of me would notbe altogether displeasing to her if I happened to be coming that way. 

It may be regarded as a strange coincidence that I instructed Brittonthat very evening to see that my golf clubs were cleaned up and putinto good shape for a little practice on a course near London, whereI had been put up by an English author, and who was forever ding-dongingat me to come out and let him "put it all over me. " I went out andbought a new brassie to replace the one destroyed by the experimentingRocksworth youth, and before I got through with it had a new putter, a niblick and a spoon, neither of which I needed for the excellentreason that I already possessed a half dozen of each. 

Keyed up to a high pitch of enthusiasm, I played golf for ten days, and found my friend to be a fine sportsman. Like all Englishmen, hetook a beating gracefully, but gave me to understand that he had beenhaving a good deal of trouble with rheumatism or neuritis in his rightelbow. On the last day we played he succeeded in bringing me in twodown and I've never seen neuritis dispersed so quickly as it was inhis case. I remember distinctly that he complained bitterly of thepain in his elbow when we started out, and that he was as fit as afiddle at the eighteenth hole. He even went so far as to implore meto stay over till the next sailing of the Mauretania. 

But I took to the high seas. Mr. Poopendyke cabled to the Homesteadat Hot Springs for suitable accommodations. I cannot remember when Ihad been so forehanded as all that, and I wonder what my secretarythought of me. My habit is to procrastinate. 

I almost forgot to mention a trifling bit of news that came to me theday before sailing. Elsie Hazzard wrote in great perturbation and atalmost unfeeling length to tell me that Count Tarnowsy had unearthedthe supposedly mythical Rothhoefen treasure chests and was reputed tohave found gold and precious jewels worth at least a million dollars. The accumulated products of a century's thievery! The hoard of all therobber barons! Tarnowsy's!

Strange to say I did not writhe nor snarl with disappointment and rage. I took the news with a _sang froid_ that almost killed poor Poopendyke. He never quite got over it. 

Nor was I especially disturbed or irritated by the telegram ofcondolence I received on board ship from Tarnowsy himself. He couldnot resist the temptation to gloat. I shall not repeat the message forthe simple reason that I do not wish to dignify it by putting it intopermanent form. We were two days out when I succeeded in setting mymind at rest in respect to Aline, Countess Tarnowsy. I had not thoughtof it before, but I remembered all of a sudden that I held decidedscruples against marrying a divorced woman. Of course, that simplifiedmatters. When one has preconceived notions about such matters theyafford excellent material to fall back upon, even though he may havedisregarded them after a fashion while unselfishly thinking of someone else. As I say, the recollection of this well-defined thoughsomewhat remorseless principle of mine had the effect of putting mymind at rest in regard to the Countess. Feeling as strongly as I didabout marriage with divorcees, she became an absolutely undesirableperson so far as matrimony was concerned. I experienced a ratherdoubtful feeling of relief. It was not so hard to say to myself thatLord Amberdale was welcome to her, but it was very, very difficult torefrain from adding the unamiable words: "damn him. "

This rigid, puritanical principle of mine, however, did not declareagainst the unrighteousness of falling in love with a divorcee. 

CHAPTER XX

I CHANGE GARDEN SPOTS

IF I have, by any chance, announced earlier in this narrative that thevalley of the Donau is the garden spot of the world, I must now askyou to excuse the ebullience of spirit that prompted the declaration. The Warm Springs Valley of Virginia is infinitely more attractive tome, and I make haste to rectify any erroneous impression I may havegiven, while under the spell of something my natural modesty forbidsme to describe. 

If you happen not to know the Warm Springs Valley, permit me to saythat you are missing a great deal. It is a garden spot and--but whydiscourse upon a subject that is so aptly handled by the gentlemen whosupply railway folders with descriptive material and who will tell youin so many words that God's noblest work was done in the green hillsand vales of fair Virginia? Any railway folder will acquaint you withall this and save me a great deal of time and trouble, besides givingyou a sensible and adequate idea of how to get there and where to stopwhen you reach your journey's end, together with the price of Pullmantickets and the nature of the ailments you are supposed to have if youtake the waters. It is only necessary for me to say that it is a gardenspot and that you don't have to change cars if you take the right trainout of New York City, a condition which does not obtain if you happento approach from the opposite direction. 

I arrived there early one bright November morning, three days afterlanding in New York. You will be rendered unhappy, I fear, by theannouncement that I left Mr. Poopendyke behind. He preferred to visitan aunt at New Rochelle and I felt that he deserved a vacation. Britton, of course, accompanied me. He is indispensable, and, so far as I know, hasn't the faintest notion of what a vacation means unless he considersemployment with me in some such light. At any rate he has nevermentioned a relation in need of a visit from him. 

Before leaving New York I had a rather unpleasant encounter with mypublishers. It was in the nature of a luncheon at which I was led tobelieve that they still expected me to supply them with the manuscriptof a novel at a very early date. They seemed considerably put out whenI blandly informed them that I had got no farther along than the secondchapter. 

"We have been counting on this book of yours for January publication, "said they. 

I tried to explain that the muse had abandoned me in a most heartlessfashion. 

"But the public demands a story from you, " said they. "What have youbeen doing all summer?"

"Romancing, " said I. 

I don't know just how it came about, but the suggestion was made thatI put into narrative form the lively history of my sojourn on the banksof the Danube, trusting implicitly to the imagination yet leavingnothing to it. 

"But it's all such blithering rot, " said I. 

"So much the better, " said they triumphantly--even eagerly. 

"I do not suppose that you, as publishers, can appreciate the factthat an author may have a soul above skittles, " said I indignantly. "I cannot, I will not write a line about myself, gentlemen. Not thatI consider the subject sacred but--"

"Wait!" cried the junior member, his face aglow. "We appreciate thedelicacy of--er--your feelings, Mr. Smart, but I have an idea, --asplendid idea. It solves the whole question. Your secretary is a mostcompetent, capable young man and a genius after a fashion. I proposethat he write the story. We'll pay him a lump sum for the work, putyour name on the cover, and there you are. All you will have to do isto edit his material. How's that?"

And so it came to pass that I took myself off that evening for HotSprings, secure in the thought that Poopendyke would attend to myliterary estate far more capably than I could do it myself, and thatmy labours later on would be pleasantly devoted to the lazy task ofediting, revising and deleting a tale already told.... 

If you are lucky enough to obtain rooms in the Homestead, looking outover the golf course, with the wonderful November colourings in thehills and gaps beyond; over the casino, the tennis courts and the lowerlevels of the fashionable playground, you may well say to yourselfthat all the world is bright and sweet and full of hope. From my windowsI could see far down the historic valley in the direction of WarmSprings, a hazy blue panorama wrapped in the air of an Indian summerand redolent with the incense of autumn. 

Britton reminded me that it was a grand morning for golf, and I wasat once reminded that Britton is an excellent chap whose opinions arealways worth considering. So I started for the links, stopping firstat the office on my way out, ostensibly to complain about the absenceof window-screens but in reality to glance over the register in questof certain signatures. 

A brisk, oldish little man came up beside me and rather testily inquiredwhy the deuce there were no matches in his room; also why the hot waterwas cold so much longer than usual that morning. He was not much ofa man to look at, but I could not fail to note the obsequious mannerin which the two clerks behind the desk looked at him. You couldn'tpossibly have discovered anything in their manner to remind you ofhotel clerks you may have come to know in your travels. A half dozenboxes of matches were passed out to him in the twinkling of an eye, and I shudder to think what might have happened if there had been ahot water faucet handy, they were so eager to please. 

"Mr. Brewster gone out yet?" demanded this important guest, pocketingall of the matches. (I could see at once that he was a very rich man. )"Did he leave any message for me? He didn't? He was to let me knowwhether he could play golf with--eh? Playing with Logan, eh? Well, ofall the--He knows I will _not_ play with Logan. See if Mr. Scott is inhis room. Tell him I'd like to take him on for eighteen holes thismorning. "

He crossed to the news-counter and glanced over the papers while adusky bell-boy shot off in quest of Mr. Scott. 

"They all hate to play with the old geezer, " said one of the clerks, --ayoung one, you may be sure, --lowering his voice and his eyebrows atthe same time. "He's the rottenest player in the world. "

"Who is he?" I inquired, mildly interested. 

"Jasper Titus, " was the reply. "The real old Jasper himself. "

Before I could recover from my surprise, the object of my curiosityapproached the desk, his watch in his hand. 

"Well, what does he say?" he demanded. 

"The--the boy isn't back yet, Mr. Titus, " said one of the clerks, involuntarily pounding the call-bell in his nervousness. 

"Lazy, shiftless niggers, the whole tribe of them, " was Mr. Titus'scaustic comment. 

At that instant the boy, quite out of breath, came thumping down thestairs. 

"Mr. Scott's got rheumatiz, Mr. Titus. He begs to be excused--"

"Buncombe!" snapped Mr. Titus. "He's afraid to play me. Well, thismeans no game for me. A beautiful day like this and--"

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Titus, " said I, stepping forward. "If you don'tmind taking on a stranger, I will be happy to go around with you. Myname is Smart. I think you must have heard of me through the Countessand your--"

"Great Scott! Smart? Are--are you the author, James Byron Smart?The--the man who--" He checked himself suddenly, but seized me by thehand and, as he wrung it vigorously, dragged me out of hearing of themen behind the desk. 

"I am John Bellamy Smart, " said I, a little miffed. 

His shrewd, hard old face underwent a marvellous change. The crustinessleft it as if by magic. His countenance radiated joy. 

"I owe you a debt of gratitude, Mr. Smart, that can never be lifted. My daughter has told me everything. You must have put up with a fearfullot of nonsense during the weeks she was with you. I know her well. She's spoiled and she's got a temper, although, upon my soul, she seemsdifferent nowadays. There _is_ a change in her, by George. "

"She's had her lesson, " said I. "Besides I didn't find she had a badtemper. "

"And say, I want to tell you something else before I forget it: I fullyappreciate your views on international marriage. Allie told meeverything you had to say about it. You must have rubbed it in! ButI think it did her good. She'll never marry another foreigner if I canhelp it, if she never marries. Well, well, I am glad to see you, andto shake your hand. I--I wish I could really tell you how I feeltoward you, my boy, but I--I don't seem to have the power to expressmyself. If I--"

I tried to convince him that the pleasure had been all mine, and theninquired for Mrs. Titus and the Countess. 

"They're both here, but the good Lord only knows where. Mrs. Titusgoes driving every morning. Roads are fine if you can stick to them. Aline said something last night about riding over to Fassifern thisforenoon with Amberdale and young Skelly. Let's see, it's half-pastten. Yes, they've gone by this time. Why didn't you write or telegraphAline? She'll be as mad as a wet hen when she finds you've come withoutletting her know. " "I thought I should like to take her by surprise, "I mumbled uncomfortably. 

"And my son Jasper--why, he will explode when he hears you're here. He's gone over to Covington to see a girl off on the train forLouisville. You've never seen such a boy. He is always going toCovington with some girl to see that she gets the right train home, But why are we wasting time here when we might be doing a few holesbefore lunch? I'll take you on. Of course, you understand I'm a wretchedplayer, but I've got one virtue: I never talk about my game and I nevertell funny stories while my opponent is addressing the ball. I'm anold duffer at the game, but I've got more sense than most duffers. "

We sauntered down to the club house where he insisted on buying me adozen golf balls and engaging a caddy for me by the week. Up to themoment we stepped up to the first tee he talked incessantly of Alineand Rosemary, but the instant the game was on he settled into the grimreserve that characterises the man who takes any enterprise seriously, be it work or play. 

I shall not discuss our game, further than to say that he played inatrociously bad form but with a purpose that let me, to some degree, into the secret of his success in life. If I do say it myself, I ama fairly good player. My driving is consistently long. It may not bedifficult for even you who do not go in for golf to appreciate thesuperior patience of a man whose tee shots are rarely short of twohundred and twenty yards when he is obliged to amble along doing nothingwhile his opponent is striving to cover the same distance in three orfour shots, not counting the misses. But I was patient, agreeablypatient, not to say tolerant. I don't believe I was ever in a betterhumour than on this gay November morn. I even apologised for Mr. Titus'sexecrable foozles; I amiably suggested that he was a little off hisgame and that he'd soon strike his gait and give me a sound beatingafter the turn. His smile was polite but ironic, and it was not longbefore I realised that he knew his own game too well to be affectedby cajolery. He just pegged away, always playing the odd or worse, uncomplaining, unresentful, as even-tempered as the May wind, and neverby any chance winning a hole from me. He was the rarest "duffer" ithas ever been my good fortune to meet. As a rule, the poorer the playerthe loader his execrations. Jasper Titus was one of the worst playersI've ever seen, but he was the personification of gentility, even underthe most provoking circumstances. For instance, at the famous "Crater, "it was my good fortune to pitch a ball fairly on the green from thetee. His mashie shot landed his ball about twenty feet up the steephill which guards the green. It rolled halfway back. Without a wordof disgust, or so much as a scowl, he climbed up and blazed away atit again, not once but fourteen times by actual count. On theseventeenth stroke he triumphantly laid his ball on the green. Mostmen would have lifted and conceded the hole to me. He played it out. 

"A man never gets anywhere, Mr. Smart, " said he, unruffled by hismiserable exhibition, "unless he keeps plugging away at a thing. That'smy principle in life. Keep at it. There is satisfaction in putting thedamned ball in the hole, even if it does require twenty strokes. Youdid it in three, but you'll soon forget the feat. I'm not likely toforget the troubles I had going down in twenty, and there lies thesecret of success. If success comes easy, we pass it off with a laugh, if it comes hard we grit our teeth and remember the ways and means. You may not believe it, but I took thirty-three strokes for that holeone day last week. Day before yesterday I did it in four. Perhaps itwouldn't occur to you to think that it's a darned sight easier to doit in four than it is in thirty-three. Get the idea?"

"I think I do, Mr. Titus, " said I. "The things that 'come easy' arenever appreciated. "

"Right, my boy. It's what we have to work for like nailers that we lieawake thinking about. "

We came out upon the eminence overlooking the next hole, which lay farbelow us. As I stooped to tee-up my ball, a gleeful shout came up thehillside. 

"Hello, John Bellamy!"

Glancing down, I saw Jasper, Jr. , at the edge of the wagon road. Hewas waving his cap and, even at that distance, I could see the radiancein his good-looking young face. A young and attractively dressed womanstood beside him. I waved my hand and shouted a greeting. 

"I thought you said he'd gone to Covington to see her off, " I said, turning to the young man's father with a grin. 

"Not the same girl, " said he succinctly, squinting his eyes. "That'sthe little Parsons girl from Richmond. He was to _meet_ her atCovington. Jasper is a scientific butterfly. He makes both endsmeet, --nearly always. Now no one but a genius could have fixed it upto see one girl off and meet another on the same train. "

Later on, Jasper, Jr. , and I strolled over to the casino verandah, thechatty Miss Parsons between us, but leaning a shade nearer to youngTitus than to me, although she appeared to be somewhat overwhelmed atmeeting a real live author. Mr. Titus, as was his habit, hurried onahead of us. I afterwards discovered he had a dread of pneumonia. 

"Aline never said a word about your coming, John, " said Jasper, Jr. He called me John with considerable gusto. "She's learning how to holdher tongue. "

"It happens that she didn't know I was coming, " said I drily. Hewhistled. 

"She's off somewhere with Amberdale. Ever meet him? He's one of thefinest chaps I know. You'll like him, Miss Parsons. He's not at alllike a Britisher. "

"But I like the British, " said she. 

"Then I'll tell him to spread it on a bit, " said Jappy obligingly. "Great horseman, he is. Got some ripping nags in the New York shownext week, and he rides like a dream. Watch him pull down a few ribbonsand rosettes. Sure thing. "

"Your father told me that the Countess was off riding with him andanother chap, --off to Fassifern, I believe. "

"For luncheon. They do it three or four times a week. Not for me. Ilike waiters with shirt fronts and nickle tags. "

Alone with me in the casino half an hour later, he announced that itreally looked serious, this affair between Aline and his lordship. 

I tried to appear indifferent, --a rather pale effort, I fear. 

"I think I am in on the secret, Jappy, " said I soberly. 

He stared. "Has she ever said anything to you, old chap, that wouldlead you to believe she's keen about him?"

I temporised. "She's keen about somebody, my son; that's as far as Iwill go. "

"Then it must be Amberdale. I'm on to her all right, all right. I knowwomen. She's in love, hang it all. If you know a thing about 'em, youcan spot the symptoms without the x-rays. I've been hoping againsthope, old man. I don't want her to marry again. She's had all the hellshe's entitled to. What's the matter with women, anyhow? They no soonerget out of one muddle than they begin looking around for another. Can'tbe satisfied with good luck. "

"But every one speaks very highly of Lord Amberdale. I'm sure she can'tbe making a mistake in marrying him. "

"I wish she'd pick out a good, steady, simplified American, just asan experiment. We're not so darned bad, you know. Women can do worsethan to marry Americans. "

"It is a matter of opinion, I fancy. At any rate we can't go aboutpicking out husbands for people who have minds of their own. "

"Well, some one in our family picked out a lemon for Aline the firsttime, let me tell you that, " said he, scowling. 

"And she's doing the picking for herself this time, I gather. "

"I suppose so, " said he gloomily. 

I have visited the popular and almost historic Fassifern farm a greatmany times in my short career, but for the life of me I cannotunderstand what attraction it possesses that could induce people togo there for luncheon and then spend a whole afternoon lolling aboutthe place. But that seems to have been precisely what the Countess andhis lordship did on the day of my arrival at the Homestead. The "otherchap, " Skerry, came riding home alone at three o'clock. She did notreturn until nearly six. By that time I was in a state of suppressedfury that almost drove me to the railway station with a single and youmight say childish object in view. 

I had a pleasant visit with Mrs. Titus, who seemed overjoyed to seeme. In fact, I had luncheon with her. Mr. Titus, it appeared, neverate luncheon. He had a dread of typhoid, I believe, and as he alreadypossessed gout and insomnia and an intermittent tendency to pain inhis abdomen, and couldn't drink anything alcoholic or eat anythingstarchy, I found myself wondering what he really did for a living. 

Mrs. Titus talked a great deal about Lord Amberdale. She was mosttiresome after the first half hour, but I must say that the luncheonwas admirable. I happened to be hungry. Having quite made up my mindthat Aline was going to marry Amberdale, I proceeded to upset thetheory that a man in love is a creature without gastronomicalaspirations by vulgarly stuffing myself with half a lamb chop, a sliceof buttered bread and nine pickles. 

"Aline will be glad to see you again, Mr. Smart, " said she amiably. "She was speaking of you only a day or two ago. "

"Was she?" I inquired, with sudden interest which I contrived toconceal. 

"Yes. She was wondering why you have never thought of marrying. "

I closed my eyes for a second, and the piece of bread finally foundthe right channel. 

"And what did you say to that?" I asked quietly. 

She was disconcerted. "I? Oh, I think I said you didn't approve ofmarrying except for love, Mr. Smart. "

"Um!" said I. "Love on both sides is the better way to put it. "

"Am I to infer that you may have experienced a one-sided leaning towardmatrimony?"

"So far as I know, I have been singularly unsupported, Mrs. Titus. "

"You really ought to marry. "

"Perhaps I may. Who knows?"

"Aline said you would make an excellent husband. "

"By that she means a stupid one, I suppose. Excellent husbands areinvariably stupid. They always want to stay at home. "

She appeared thoughtful. "And expect their wives to stay at home too. "

"On the contrary, an excellent husband lets his wife go where shelikes--without him. "

"I am afraid you do not understand matrimony, Mr. Smart, " she said, and changed the subject. 

I am afraid that my mind wandered a little at this juncture, for Imissed fire on one or two direct questions. Mrs. Titus was annoyed;it would not be just to her to say that she was offended. If she couldbut have known that my thoughts were of the day and minute when I sobrutally caressed the Countess Tarnowsy, I fancy she would have changedher good opinion of me. To tell the truth, I was wondering just howthe Countess would behave toward me, with the memory of thatunforgettable incident standing between us. I had been trying toconvince myself for a very long time that my fault was not as greatin her eyes as it was in mine. 

Along about five o'clock, I went to my room. I daresay I was sulking. A polite bell-boy tapped on my door at half-past six. He presented asmall envelope to me, thanked me three or four times, and, as anafterthought, announced that there was to be an answer. 

Whereupon I read the Countess's note with a magnificently unreadableface. I cleared my throat, and (I think) squared my shoulders somewhatas a soldier does when he is being commended for valour, and said:

"Present my compliments to the Countess, and say that Mr. Smart willbe down in five minutes. "

The boy stared. "The--the what, sir?"

"The _what_?" I demanded. 

"I mean the _who_, sir. "

"The Countess. The lady who sent you up with this note. "

"Wasn't no Countess sent me up hyer, boss. It was Miss Tarsney. "

Somehow staggered, I managed to wave my hand comprehensively. 

"Never mind. Just say that I'll be down in two minutes. "

He grinned. "I reckon I'd better hustle, or you'll beat me down, boss. "

 * * * * *

CHAPTER XXI

SHE PROPOSES

She was still in her riding habit when I found her alone in the parlourof the Titus suite. 

I give you my word my heart almost stopped beating. I've never seenany one so lovely as she was at that moment. _Never_, I repeat. Herhair, blown by the kind November winds, strayed--but no! I cannotbegin to define the loveliness of her. There was a warm, rich glow inher cheeks and a light in her eyes that actually bewildered me, andmore than that I am not competent to utter. 

"You have come at last, " she said, and her voice sounded very far off;although I was lifting her ungloved hand to my lips. She clenched myfingers tightly, I remember that; and also that my hand shook violentlyand that my face _felt_ pale. 

I think I said that I had come at last. She took my other hand in hersand drawing dangerously close to me said:

"I do not expect to be married for at least a year, John. "

"I--I congratulate you, " I stammered foolishly. 

"I have a feeling that it isn't decent for one to marry inside of twoyears after one has been divorced. "

"How is Rosemary?" I murmured. 

"You _are_ in love with me, aren't you, John, dear?"

"Goo--good heaven!" I gasped. 

"I _know_ you are. That's why I am so sure of myself. Is it asking toomuch of you to marry me in a year from--"

I haven't the faintest notion how long afterward it was that I askedher what was to become of that poor, unlucky devil, Lord Amberdale. 

"He isn't a devil. He's a dear, and he is going to marry abred-in-the-bone countess next January. You will like him, because heis every bit as much in love with his real countess are you are witha sham one. He is a bird of your feather. And now don't you want tocome with me to see Rosemary?"

"Rosemary, " I murmured, as in a dream--a luxurious lotus-born dream. 

She took my arm and advanced with me into a room adjoining the parlour. As we passed through the door, she suddenly squeezed my arm very tightlyand laid her head against my shoulder. 

We were in a small sitting-room, confronting Jasper Titus, his wifeand his tiny grand-daughter, who was ready for bed. 

"You won't have to worry about me any longer, daddy dear, " said Aline, her voice suddenly breaking. 

"Well, I'll be--well, well, well!" cried my late victim of the links. "Is _this_ the way the wind blows?"

I was perfectly dumb. My face was scarlet. My dazzled eyes saw nothingbut the fine, aristocratic features of Aline's mother. She was leaningslightly forward in her chair, and a slow but unmistakable joyous smilewas creeping into her face. 

"Aline!" she cried, and Aline went to her. 

Jasper Titus led Rosemary up to me. 

"Kiss the gentleman, kiddie, " said he huskily, lifting the little oneup to me. 

She gave a sudden shriek of recognition, and I took her in my arms. 

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed I, without the slightest idea of what I was doingor why I did it. Sometimes I wonder if there has ever been any insanityin our family. I know there have been fools, for I have my Uncle Rilas'sword for it. 

Mr. Titus picked up the newspaper he had been reading. 

"Listen to this, Allie. It will interest you. It says here that ourfriend Tarnowsy is going to marry that fool of a Cincinnati girl wewere talking about the other day. I know her father, but I've nevermet her mother. Old Bob Thackery has got millions but he's only gotone daughter. What a blamed shame!"

 * * * * *

It must be perfectly obvious to you, kind reader, that I am going tomarry Aline Tarnowsy, in spite of all my professed opposition tomarrying a divorcee. I argued the whole matter out with myself, butnot until after I was irrevocably committed. She says she needs me. Well, isn't that enough? In fact, I am now trying my best to get herto shorten the probationary period. She has taken off three months, God bless her, but I still hope for a further and more generousreduction--for good behaviour!

THE END