THE COUNT'S SECOND VISITOR
Two days more passed without any change in the Count's conduct or
health, save that his brow was a little darker, and he was heard
occasionally muttering to himself.
On the morning of the third, a four-wheeled cab deposited at the door of
the hotel a young lady, who demanded somewhat haughtily to see the
manager. She was shown into the waiting-room, and in a few minutes he
appeared.
He had been expecting a visit from an applicant for the post of
assistant bookkeeper, and he entered the room with a little less than
his usual ceremony, under the impression that this was she. He found
himself confronted with a tall, slim girl, elegantly but simply dressed
in plain black clothes. She carried herself with the dignity of a queen,
and before the quick glance of her flashing black eyes he felt himself
abashed into making a low bow. There was something foreign in her
appearance, but something eminently aristocratic.
"Good-morning, madam."
She disdained to notice the salutation, and, holding out a paper toward
him, pointed with her long slim finger to the advertisement column.
"I have come about this paragraph. Take me to him!"
"With the greatest pleasure, madam," he answered, bowing. "May I be
permitted to ask, are you a relation of the Count's?"
"Certainly, I am his niece," she answered, frowning. "Take me to him at
once. I don't choose to be kept waiting," she added impetuously.
The manager bit his lip, and bowed again to hide a smile. It seemed to
him that if this young lady failed to rouse his eccentric visitor the
task was hopeless indeed.
"Will you pardon me, madam, if I detain you one moment," he said
deferentially. "I should like, before you see the Count, to explain to
you the reasons which induced me to insert that notice in the _Times_."
She tapped the floor impatiently with her foot.
"Be quick, then!"
"The Count arrived here on the first of the month, almost a fortnight
ago. Immediately on his arrival he went out in a cab, and returned
somewhat late at night, looking dazed and ill. From that moment he has
not left his room, and we fear, madam, to be candid, that he is losing
his reason. He declines to go out to see a physician; to write to his
friends. It is pitiable to see him, especially when one considers his
long and painful imprisonment, from which he has only just been
released. He would not listen to any suggestions or advice from us, so
it occurred to me to put that advertisement in the paper unknown to him.
May I be pardoned if I beg of you not to mention the means by which you
became aware of his presence here, or to simply state that you saw his
arrival chronicled in the paper? He may regard our interference in the
light of a liberty, although it was solely for his good."
"It was a liberty to take!" she answered coldly. "I will not promise
anything. I dare say I shall not mention it."
"There is one thing more which I should tell you, madam," he continued.
"Two days ago a visitor came to see him, having noticed in the paper, as
you have done, the paragraph I inserted. I will not tell you her name,
but she was one of the most beautiful and distinguished Englishwomen of
our aristocracy, and from the manner of her departure, I could not help
coming to the conclusion that the Count, by some means or other, had
frightened her to death. She was nearly fainting as she came downstairs,
and she has not been here since. I have no reason, beyond what I have
told you, to doubt the Count's sanity, but I think that it is right for
you to know this."
"Very well. I am not afraid. Kindly take me to him at once, now!" she
directed.
He led her out of the apartment, and up the broad staircase. Outside the
door of the Count's sitting-room he paused.
"Shall I announce you, madam?" he asked.
"No! Go away!" she answered shortly. "I wish to enter alone."