GETTING READY
I don't like having to own that General von Erlanger went a little too
far in saying that nothing could frighten me. The terms in which he
had spoken of the Patriotic movement and his reference to its
compassionless sacrifice of victims disturbed me profoundly.
I passed a sleepless, tumbling, anxious night; and if it be fear to
conjure up all kinds of possible horrors, to shrink at the thought that
even my life might be in danger, and to lie wincing and cringing and
shuddering at the prospect of cruelty and torture, then certainly I was
horribly frightened.
I was a prey to bitter unavailing regret that I had so lightly and
thoughtlessly set out on a path which had led me to such a pass and
brought me face to face with such powerful, terrifying, and implacable
adversaries.
The temptation to run away from it all seized upon me with such force
that I sought in all directions for reasons which would justify
cowardice and clothe it with the robe of prudence. But my fears were
confronted by the conviction that I had gone too far to be able to
retreat without deserting Gareth; and at that my alarm took the shape
of hot but impotent indignation at my lack of foresight.
Then my sense of honour and my fear had a struggle over that sweet,
innocent, trustful, child, in which all that was mean and ignoble and
cowardly in my disposition fought to persuade me to desert her; and
before the night was half over had all but conquered.
I was tired of playing a man's part; and in those hours of weakness,
the sense of responsibility was so cruelly heavy and the desire to be
only a girl and just rush away from it all so strong, that once I
actually jumped from my bed and began to dress myself with feverish
eagerness to leave the house and fly from the city.
But I had not even the courage of my cowardice. The recollection of
that sneer of Count Gustav's--that while my name still bore the stain I
was not even the equal of such a woman as Madame d'Artelle stayed me.
I tore off my clothes again and crept back into bed, to lie shivering
at the consciousness that if I was afraid to go through with my
purpose, I was even more afraid to run away from it.
I grew calmer after a while. I put aside as mere hysterical nonsense
the idea that my life could be in danger. They had not even taken my
father's life. If they found me in their way, they might devise some
excuse for imprisoning me. That was probably the worst that could
happen. It had been in General von Erlanger's mind; and he had
promised to secure my liberty. I knew I could trust myself to him.
By reflections of this kind I wrestled with my weakness and at length
overcame it; and in the end fell asleep, no longer a coward, but fully
resolved to carry my purpose through and fight all I knew to win.
In the morning I began at once to carry out my plan. I sent a servant
to ask Madame d'Artelle if she could spare Ernestine to come and help
me.
Instead of Ernestine, Madame herself came--as I had anticipated,
indeed. She found me in all the middle of packing; my frocks and
things spread all over the room, and my trunks open.
"What does this mean, Christabel?" she asked.
"You can see for yourself. I have had enough of plots and schemes to
last my life time. I jumped up in the night and half-dressed to run
away. I was so scared."
"You are going away?" Relief and pleasure were in her tone.
I laughed unpleasantly. "You need not be glad."
"I am not glad," she replied, untruthfully.
"I am putting the work into stronger hands. That's all."
"You said you could protect me."
"I have done that. Count Gustav promised as much to me yesterday. You
are free to leave Pesth at once if you like. You need not marry his
brother unless you wish. And after to-day, not even if you wish. Is
Ernestine coming to help me?"
"I wish you would speak plainly. You always frighten me with your
vague speeches. You seem to mean so much."
"I do mean very much--far more than I shall tell you. You have been no
friend to me--why should I explain? Take your own course; and see what
comes of it. Is Ernestine coming, I say?"
"Yes, of course she can come; but I am so frightened."
"That will do you no harm," I rapped out, bluntly. "I wash my hands of
everything."
"What am I to do?" she cried, waving her hands helplessly.
"I arranged yesterday with Count Gustav that the scheme for this
romantic elopement should be carried out. You can play your part for
all I care. The chief thing you can do for me is to send Ernestine
here."
"But I----"
"Will you send her here?" and I stamped my foot angrily, and so drove
her out of the room in the condition of nervous doubt and anxiety I
desired.
With the maid's help my trunks were soon packed, and the work was
nearly finished when Madame d'Artelle came back.
"Count Gustav is here," she said.
"Very well. You can close that box, Ernestine, and try to pack this
toque in the top of the black one. You got everything I said for the
voyage in the cabin trunk."
"He insists on seeing you, Christabel."
"I'll come down when I've finished." I spoke irritably. Irritation is
the natural result of a couple of hours' packing.
Everything was ready when I went downstairs.
"I hear you are going away, Miss----"
"Gilmore," I broke in, giving him a look.
"I congratulate you on your--prudence." He too, like Madame d'Artelle,
was obviously both relieved and pleased at the news.
"You need not smile at it. I am not doing it to please you, Count
Gustav."
"I wish to ask you a question if Madame d'Artelle----" and he paused
and looked at her.
"I don't see the need of all this mystery," she answered, tossing her
head as she left the room.
"Please be quick," I said, snappishly. "I am both in a hurry and a bad
temper--a trying combination even for a woman of my disposition."
"You have not slept well, perhaps."
"No. I had to think. What is your question?"
"About Gareth?"
"I shall not answer it," I said shortly, and frowned as though the
subject were particularly unwelcome and disturbing.
"I think I can understand;" he answered believing he could read my
mood. "And about Karl and Madame?"
"I have not forgotten your sneer. I will not disgrace him." I spoke
with as much bitterness and concentrated anger as I could simulate, and
was pleased by the covert smile my words produced, although I appeared
to be goaded to anger by it.
"I will tell you one thing. She shall not either. By to-morrow some
one will be here from Paris who will see to that."
"That may be too late."
"No. You dare not do anything to-day. You dare not," I exclaimed,
passionately.
"You have told that to Madame?"
"No. She is nothing to me."
"You are very bitter."
"Again, no. You have only made me indifferent;" and as if I could bear
no more, I hurried out of the room. I knew as well as if he had told
me that the effect of my words would be to drive him to use the time of
grace I had left him.
I did not wait to see Madame d'Artelle, but had my trunks placed in a
fly and, taking Ernestine with me, drove to the depot. She took my
ticket for Paris, saw to the labelling of my luggage, settled me in my
compartment, and waited me with until the train started. I wished the
proof of my departure to be quite clear.
But on the Hungarian railways the trains do not run long distances
without stopping; and at the first station I got out and returned to
Pesth. I was back in my house with Gareth before one o'clock, and had
already seen James Perry, who had returned, and arranged one of my next
moves.
A wire was sent to Paris to a friend of his requesting that a telegram
be despatched as from M. Constans, saying that he would be in Pesth
that evening at nine o'clock, and would come straight to Madame
d'Artelle's house.
That telegram was the weapon with which I intended to frighten Madame
away from Pesth in order that I might take her place.
I had one more preparation to make. I wrote out orders dismissing the
men servants at the house, "Unter den Linden," and signed them "Karl
von Ostelen," taking great care over the signatures. These I gave to
Perry together with money for any wages they might claim, and
instructed him to drive with his son to the house after dusk.
I told him I should arrive there later in the evening in a carriage;
and that if the men in charge of it attempted to stable the horses
there, he was to say that the Count's orders were that they should not
remain. After that he and his son were to be in the house: to say
nothing about me to any women servants, and to act just as I directed.
Poor little Gareth was more impatient than ever at the lack of news;
but I pacified her by saying I expected to have some on the following
day; and to escape her somewhat fretful questionings, I pleaded a bad
headache and went to my room and lay down.
I needed rest after my broken night, and succeeded in getting to sleep
for two hours. I awoke greatly refreshed; and although I was excited
at the prospect of the evening's work, I felt very fit and ready to
face any emergencies. I was quite able now to laugh at my cowardice of
the previous night.
"What news is it you expect, Christabel?" was the question with which
Gareth greeted me when I went down to her. "I have been thinking of it
ever since you told me."
"To find Count von Ostelen, of course."
"How are you going to find him? Do tell me."
"I was governess to the daughters of General von Erlanger, his
Excellency the Minister, you know, Gareth. I saw him last night: I was
at his house; and I know he can find the Count if any one can. That
reminds me. I was to write to him."
I had forgotten his Excellency's injunction to send him a daily
message. I took a visiting card and scribbled on the back "Quite well"
over my initials, and was giving it to James Perry to take when an
extra precaution occurred to me.
"You will see the General yourself with this," I told him; "but you
will not let his servants know from whom you come. I can't tell you
everything; but something has occurred which makes it necessary for me
to send a message every day to General von Erlanger. If I forget it,
you must remind me; for you are always to carry it; and always to see
the General yourself. Tell him to-day that I have arranged it so. And
listen carefully to this--if anything should happen to me and you think
I am in any great difficulty, or trouble, or danger--don't look scared:
nothing may come of it all--but if I am, then you are to go at once to
General von Erlanger and tell him all you know."
He was an excellent servant; but well trained as he was, he could not
suppress his curiosity and surprise.
"We have always been faithful, miss; mayn't I ask whether----"
"No, not yet. If there is need, I shall tell you--because I trust you
as fully as I trust your father and mother, and I have a very high
opinion of your courage and ability. At present, you have only to
remember what I have told you to do."
Gareth was very inquisitive about my movements when, as the dusk fell,
I began to prepare for the work in hand. She plied me with prattling
questions; why I was at such pains over my dressing; why I took a large
cloak on a night comparatively warm; what the thick muffling veil was
for; and she gave a little cry of terror when her sharp eyes caught
sight of the revolver which I tried to slip into my pocket unnoticed.
"You are such a strange girl, Christabel," she said.
"Every one tells me that; but I generally get there."
"'Get there?' What is that?"
"An Americanism, dear, for gaining your own end."
"Are all American girls like you?" she laughed.
"Luckily for them, perhaps, no. I'm from the Middle West and we have
more freedom there than in the Old World."
"Do you all go about in thick cloaks with heavy veils and carrying
arms?"
"Gareth, no," I laughed. "We only do these things in fancy dress
balls."
"Are you going to one to-night? Oh, I didn't know."
"It's only a masquerade to-night--and this is to be the cloak over my
costume."
"Oh, Christabel dear, why didn't you tell me? But you've a walking
dress underneath."
"I am going to start for the masquerade from the other house."
"Will there be dancing? Oh, I wish I could go."
"No, no dancing; but I guess the band will play."
"I love music," she cried, not understanding slang; and I didn't
explain it.
"I wish you weren't going, Christabel," she said, kissing me when I was
ready to start.
"It will be a long evening and I may wish that too before it's over," I
replied, with a feeling that that might well be so.
"You will be here with the news at the earliest possible moment
to-morrow, won't you, dear? I am so weary of waiting."
"I hope I shall be successful and have good news to bring you."
"I am sure you will. I have such faith in you, Christabel."
She kissed me and with my cloak on my arm and those words ringing in my
ears, I set out upon the risky business before me.