HALF A PROMISE.
Ten minutes later a big emblazoned footman brought Rallywood a summons
from the Countess, as he stood talking to Counsellor and the Russian
_attaché_.
As he moved away Blivinski placed a bony impressive finger on
Counsellor's sleeve.
'If he were not English, you could not trust him,' he said
enigmatically.
Counsellor raised his bushy eyebrows, with a humorous glance. 'We have
had our day.'
'Ah, my friend, you know most things. Also I know a very few,' Blivinski
said significantly, 'but with your nation patriotism is not a virtue, it
is a part of your physical system. You sacrifice all for your country,
not because it is right to do so, but simply because you cannot help it;
the good God made you so. Therefore this young man, in face of the
supreme temptation of youth, may be trusted. I speak of these things now
because you will remember, in good time, that those who are against you
will not dare to injure'--he removed the finger to his own breast--'us
also!'
And the little silent swarthy man slipped away almost before Counsellor
realised that Russia, the mighty, had given him a pledge which might
prove of immense value in the uncertain future.
Rallywood found the young Countess crouching and shivering near a wood
fire. She was magnificently dressed in rich tones of royal purple, that
accentuated her delicate fairness and beauty, and a small diadem of
amethysts shone in the pale gold of her hair.
She took no notice of his entrance, though she was acutely conscious
that his eyes were on her. She was hungry of his gaze, and she believed
in the power of her own loveliness.
'Jack,' she said at last, 'come here. I wonder now why I sent for you,
but I am miserable.'
She looked up at him heavy-lidded.
There was concern in his voice as he answered her.
'If I told you all,' she went on, 'you would not believe me. I am
now--to-night--in great danger.'
'In danger? Here? where you are surrounded by friends,' replied
Rallywood, beginning to wish himself well out of it. Had there been no
Valerie Selpdorf, or even had he not uttered those impulsive words
which, to his mind, changed his position from the indefinite to the
definite, the history of his life might have been turned into another
channel that evening. As it was, though Valerie remained free as the
wind, he felt himself to be in some vague manner bound to her.
'Nonsense! You know how useless all these friends would be if things
went wrong with me. They flatter the Countess of Sagan, but not one of
them would make the smallest sacrifice for Isolde, the woman. I do not
know if you, even you, are my friend. We talked about it--long ago. But
I have not put you to the test, and I--I often wonder if our friendship
still remains alive.'
'I am as I always was,' he parried.
'I wonder if that is true?' She raised her drooping face again. 'I don't
know how to believe you. Why will you keep up this pretence of--of
reserve between us? You never tell me your troubles, and I suppose you
have them, like the rest of us. We should be quite old friends now, and
yet you are always so'--she hesitated for a word--'courteous. Are you
ever angry, for example?'
'Very often.'
'But not with me, and I have given you cause many a time. If you would
be angry with me even once, Jack, causelessly angry, then I should know
I had a friend to whom I could go if I were in trouble--in such trouble
as I am to-night!'
'If there is anything I can do for you----'
The quiet tone annoyed her. She rose quickly.
'If--if--if! Any man could help me who--cared.'
'I do care.'
'I wonder,' she said wistfully, 'how much you mean of what you say. I
have no standard to judge you by, because you are not quite like other
men. But I owe you my life, and I sometimes think it gives me a claim on
you.'
'I can never pretend you owe me anything: you were quite safe; no
accident could have happened. You are far too good a horsewoman, though
you were nervous for the moment.' He spoke with a careless
affectionateness, for the young Countess in her helpless beauty appealed
to him.
'Look at me!' she said tragically. 'Do I seem hateful?'
'You are a young queen,' he paused, and added, 'a young queen--seen in a
dream! You are too ethereal to be of common earth.'
'I am of common earth like any other woman,' she answered with a forlorn
little smile; 'I can be afraid and--I can love!'
'Afraid? In your own Castle, among your own people?'
'Yes, Jack. Don't think I am silly! It is quite true. You say you have
not changed, that you are still my friend. You are my only one then! I
must look to you for protection; I have no one else in the whole world.'
She was very near him, her little cold hand had caught his in her
vehemence; she looked apprehensively behind her, and then spoke low in
his ear. 'I am afraid of my husband. He wishes to be rid of me--I have
seen it in his eyes. Sagan will kill me! Do you remember the night of
the ball, when I gave you the firefly? Have you kept it, I wonder? I
said mine would be a short life. It is true. Sagan is tired of me, and
I--Jack, I--loathe him!'
'But----' Rallywood began.
'You don't believe me? See this!' she pushed back a band of black velvet
from her arm, and held it out to him. This touched him more than all;
the slender blue-veined wrist with the marks of those cruel fingers
clasped about it moved him far more than the temptations of her delicate
beauty. With an almost involuntary desire to comfort her as one might
comfort and please a child, he bent above her hand and kissed the
bruises.
Isolde clung to him with a quick sob of relief.
'Promise me, Jack, that you will save me! When danger threatens me I
will send for you. You will come? You promise?'
But Rallywood was not in the least in love with Madame de Sagan for all
his pity. He was again master of himself, and an odd suspicion flashed
across him.
'I feel certain you are mistaken,' he repeated; 'but you have another
friend who can be of more service than I just now, Mademoiselle
Selpdorf.'
The Countess sank back into her chair.
'What do you know of Valerie?' she asked coldly.
'Very little, but----'
'Thanks! I know her better than you do. I don't choose that she should
amuse herself at my expense.
As it is, she has brought most of this trouble upon me.'
Rallywood may have been sagacious enough on some points, but on this
particular one he was a fool. He was not at all aware that Madame de
Sagan with her innocent eyes and small brain was sifting him.
'But she meant to defend you!' he exclaimed.
She laughed softly, and if a woman could have compassed the ruin of a
man by means of love and temptation, Rallywood was lost from that hour,
for the rivalry of Valerie Selpdorf added the one incentive of bitter
resolve that drives such slight-brained jealous souls to the last limit
of reckless endeavour.
'When I find myself in danger I will remind you of the firefly, and you
will come then, Jack!' she said, 'you promise?'
'When you want me, I will come--as soon as I may.'
'But that is only half a promise.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'but you know the other half is pledged already.'
She sprang up with clenched hands.
'What? To Valerie? Already?'
'No, Madame, to the Duke.'
'Ah, the Duke is well served!' she said sadly as he bowed at the door,
but she laughed to herself when it closed behind him, 'Yet you will come
when I send for you, Jack!'