That same morning, as it happened, Adelaide received a letter from
Victor Fargeau, dated from Paris, telling her, among other things,
that the two alleged Polar expeditions would be ready to start in a
fortnight's time, and that he had been appointed to, as he put it, the
scientific command of the French one. There had been a considerable
amount of veiled friction between the French and Russian governments
as soon as they had both been compelled to admit to each other the
true object of the expeditions, and it was even suspected that the
Russian government was secretly preparing a much more formidable
scientific expedition of four vessels--including their celebrated
ice-breaker _Ivan the Terrible_, a vessel built in an English yard for
the purpose of breaking up the Baltic ice in winter, in order to keep
the ports free and the Russian Baltic squadron always serviceable.
With such a vessel to lead it the Russian expedition would be quite
certain of reaching Boothia Land whatever the condition of the ice
might be, because she would be able to clear a course for her consorts
through it. All the probabilities were, therefore, in favour of the
Russian squadron getting to Boothia Land first. If they did that, and
were successful in getting possession of the works, it was not very
likely that Russia would be inclined to share the dominion of the
world with the ally she had already bled so freely, and in this case
France would be once more robbed of the fruits of his father's
discovery.
Soon after afternoon tea on the lawn of Clifford Vandel's bungalow,
Adelaide said to Sophie, as they sat in their deck-chairs beside each
other:
"I am given to understand that Russia is quite determined to reach the
Pole, if possible, in this next expedition."
"The Pole?" laughed Sophie, with a swift glance under her half-lowered
eyelids. "My dear marquise, surely you are joking with me a little
unnecessarily. Which Pole?"
"Really, my dear countess, I am speaking quite seriously," she
replied, turning her head on her cushion, and looking at her companion
with somewhat languid eyes. "I presume, of course, it must be the
North Pole--because I hear from a quite reliable source that your
government is sending out the big ice-breaker--the _Ivan the
Terrible_, you know; and that would hardly be necessary to get to
the other Pole, the one that you perhaps mean, unless, of course,
they wished to make certain of getting there as quickly as possible."
Sophie would have given a great deal to know the source of this
information, which had only reached her father a day or so before, but
it was, of course, impossible for her to ask, so she contented herself
with saying, in slow, careless tones:
"Really, that is quite interesting. But then, of course, you know,
when Russia takes anything like this in hand she generally does it
thoroughly, and, of course, the ice may be late this year, as they
call it, crowded up in the narrow places I suppose; and in that case,
of course, the French expedition will find it accommodating to have a
ship like that to break the way in advance--and out again if
necessary. I suppose you have quite decided to take the trip across
the Atlantic on the _Nadine_?"
"Oh yes; that is quite arranged. It will be my first visit to
America--that wonderful land."
"America--wonderful? Well, I should say!" said Miss Chrysie, coming
behind them at this instant, and putting her hands on the backs of
their chairs, "It's a pity you can't come too, countess. I guess I
could promise you both a pretty interesting time from Niagara right
away to----"
"Suppose we say the Magnetic Pole?" murmured Sophie, turning her head
back, and looking up at her with a glance that was lazy and yet full
of challenge.
"Well, yes, that might be interesting, too," replied Miss Chrysie,
looking steadily down into her eyes. "Those works that the viscount
and poppa are getting fixed up there, whatever they mean them for,
must be something pretty wonderful, for they're spending quite a lot
of money on them. It might not be impossible that we'll be going up to
see them some day, and if you'd come across, countess, I dare say I
might be able to show you round."
"Really, that's more than kind of you, Miss Vandel; but I'm sorry to
say that my father's official duties demand his presence at
Petersburg, and we absolutely must leave when the house-party at Orrel
Court breaks up; but excuse me, I see my father beckoning to me. I
will leave you my seat, Miss Vandel."
She got up, and walked away forward to where her father was standing
near the verandah. Miss Chrysie took possession of her seat, clasped
her hands behind her head, stretched out her legs till a pair of
dainty pointed toes peeped from under the hem of her dress, and said,
with a sidelong glance at Adelaide, and in a slow drawl:
"Nice girl the countess, marquise, and very good-looking--very; but,
somehow--well, perhaps you haven't noticed it, but I have--she seems
to have a sort of way of talking at you instead of to you, and always
meaning just something a bit different to what she says."
"It is quite possible," said Adelaide, slightly coldly, for Chrysie's
words were just a little too frank to please her taste; "but, you see,
she's a Russian; and the daughter of a diplomat. All Russians of good
family are born diplomatists, and diplomacy, you know----"
"Why yes," laughed Chrysie; "diplomacy is the whole art and science of
saying one thing and meaning another, and getting the other fellow to
believe that you're telling the ironclad truth when you are lying like
Ananias; and I guess the countess hasn't learnt her lessons very
badly."
"In other words, Miss Vandel," said Adelaide, with a laugh that had a
note of harshness in it, "you think the Countess Valdemar is, to put
it into quite brutal English, a liar."
"Why no," replied Chrysie, looking straight down at her shapely toes;
"just a diplomatist, or, I should say, the daughter of one. But we
don't want to pull each other to pieces like this. What's the matter
with changing the subject? What's your idea, marquise, about these two
Polar expeditions being started off this year? Doesn't it strike you
as just a bit curious that they should be going north up Davis Straits
just when our Storage Works are getting finished? Shouldn't wonder if
the countess gave herself away a bit when she spoke just now about the
Magnetic Pole."
This was a kind of diplomacy that was entirely strange to Adelaide,
and for a moment or two she hardly knew what to say; then she replied,
rather languidly:
"Really, Miss Vandel, it is a matter that interests me very little. I
believe this is the proper time for setting out on Polar expeditions,
and you know the Russians are very fond of making these journeys in
the interests of science and exploration."
"Mostly exploration of what's going to be new Russian territory,"
replied Miss Chrysie, with a snap of her eyes. "Ah, here's his
lordship junior. Well, viscount, I've got to thank you for yet one
more just entirely delightful day!"
Before Hardress could reply she turned another sidelong glance on
Adelaide. In spite of all her self-control, Adelaide's cheeks flushed
ever so slightly and her eyes lighted up as Hardress pulled a chair
towards them.
And she hated her frankly and cordially for it; for she was a girl of
absolutely honest feelings, and just as straightforward and
thorough-going in her hates as in her loves.
"My dear Miss Vandel," replied Hardress, "it is quite the other way
about; it is I who have to thank you for the pleasure of giving you
pleasure."
"After that," laughed the marquise, turning her lovely eyes full on
his, "let it never be said that an Englishman cannot turn a
compliment."
Chrysie noticed that Hardress flushed a little and dropped his eyes
slightly under that bewildering glance, and she hated the marquise
more intensely than ever.
"It was no compliment, I can assure you," he said, looking up at
Chrysie, "though what the marquise just said may have been. But, by
the way, I came to tell you a rather serious piece of news, marquise;
and something that may perhaps influence your aunt's plans."
"Ah, what is that?" said Adelaide.
"Well, from the telegram my father has just received, which will
probably be in the papers to-night, there is going to be a tremendous
military scandal in Germany, which may have very grave results indeed,
even to the extent of an European war. The detectives of the military
staff at Berlin have discovered a sort of Teutonic Dreyfus--a young
fellow holding the rank of lieutenant, and employed as a sort of
military under-secretary in the bureau of the Minister of War. To a
certain extent it's the old story. He had ruined himself with gambling
and horse-racing, and, not content with that, had got involved with a
very pretty and equally unscrupulous French variety actress, who bled
him with apparently more consistency than she loved him. The agents of
the French secret service in Germany got hold of him and he sold
himself.
"So far the story is commonplace--that sort of thing happens every
week in all countries--but the extraordinary thing about this is that
when this young fellow was confronted with proofs, he not only made a
clean breast of what he had done, but he told his chiefs that the man
who had been mostly instrumental in getting him into trouble, and had,
in fact, introduced him to the woman who ruined him, was a brother
officer--a staff-captain and military attache of a foreign court. This
man, he confessed, had obtained, partly through him and partly through
his own knowledge and other sources, a complete sketch of the German
plans, both for invading France and resisting a French invasion,
together with all the necessary details as to men, guns, transports,
etc. Stranger still, a German staff-officer answering exactly to the
description, resigned his commission nearly a year ago, and retired
into private life. He was not a German, but an Alsatian. The German
secret agents in Paris took up the scent, and found that this very man
had been in close communication with the Minister of War and appeared
to be holding some confidential position in the service of the
Ministry. Now Germany, it is rumoured, has demanded his extradition on
a charge of treason and desertion; for it seems that his resignation
was never officially accepted, although he was allowed to go in
consequence of some family trouble which brought disgrace upon his
name. France has refused it, and--well, the situation may be described
as distinctly strained."
"Well," said Miss Chrysie to herself, while he was speaking, "if
that's not a pretty good sample of diplomacy, I've got a wrong idea of
the word altogether." She had turned her head lazily on the cushion
again, every now and then glancing at Adelaide's face. Hardress had,
of course, done the same repeatedly during his narrative, which he had
told just as though he were telling some absolutely fresh piece of
news to a couple of listeners who would only take an outside interest
in it. Since her father's death Adelaide had given no sign that he had
told her anything on his deathbed, or that she was aware of the true
nature of the Great Storage Scheme. Now she kept her composure
admirably under the double scrutiny. Chrysie fancied that she changed
colour ever so little at the mention of the German staff-officer who
had resigned, and of the visits to the French Minister of War, but
otherwise she gave no sign, she just sat and listened, every now and
then drawing the point of her parasol across the grass at her feet,
and occasionally looking out over the water dotted with a multitude of
crafts coming to an anchor after the day's racing. Certainly neither
of them found any reason so far to believe that the story had anything
more than a general interest for her. When she spoke her voice was
just as low and sweetly quiet as ever it was.
"Certainly that is very serious news," she said, looking straight at
Hardress. "We know, of course, that there has been great tension
between the two countries for some time, and if France refuses to give
this man up there can hardly be anything but war; and yet if it is
true that France possesses all the German plans, Germany would be at a
terrible disadvantage, for it would be impossible to change them at
the last minute. At any rate, I am very much obliged to you for your
early information, viscount. Certainly I think it would be better for
my aunt to remain in England for the present; and in that case, I am
afraid it will be my duty to remain with her."
"Not at all, my dear marquise," said Hardress, with an eagerness which
Chrysie did not at all appreciate. "You know your aunt was a great
yachtswoman some years ago; she's a splendid sailor, and there's lots
of room on board the _Nadine_. Let her come to Canada with us. The
voyage would do her all the good in the world. We can land you with
Miss Vandel and Olive at Halifax, and you can have a delightful run
through Canada and the States under my father's protection, while the
president and I pay our visit to the Storage Works."
"A thousand thanks, my dear viscount," replied the marquise; "but
that, of course, will be a matter for my aunt alone to decide. For my
part, I can only say that I shall be delighted if she says yes."
"I sha'n't," said Miss Chrysie, with great emphasis, in her soul.
Meanwhile another conversation on the same subject was going on in
another part of the lawn. A messenger-boy had about half-an-hour
before brought the count an envelope containing a lengthy telegram;
and it was when he had read this that he had beckoned to Sophie, and
she had scarcely joined him when one of the servants brought her a
note which had been left by a man at the gate of the grounds. They
left the verandah where the count had been standing, and strolled down
towards the water.
"Well, papa," said Sophie, "I saw you had a telegram just now. Any
news?"
"News? Yes," said the count; "and very serious, too. Briefly, the
German government has discovered everything about Fargeau--that is to
say, his treason and his connection with Ducros--and has demanded his
extradition from the French government. France, having got the plans,
will, of course, refuse, and then there will be war--probably in a
week or two."
"And Russia?" queried Sophie, looking up at him.
"Russia, my dear, as you understand, will act as circumstances
direct."
At this moment the note was put into Sophie's hands. She opened it,
read it, dismissed the servant, and said in a low voice:
"Papa, here is even more serious news than yours. This is from my
friend the engineer. He tells me that the viscount has suddenly
altered his plans; that the _Nadine_ is to be filled with coal to
her utmost capacity, and all preparations made for crossing the
Atlantic at full speed, instead of about twelve knots."
"And she can steam twenty knots," said the count. "I'm afraid, my dear
Sophie, that completely upsets your nicely-arranged plan for a
rendezvous in mid-ocean. The _Nadine_ will be across the Atlantic
before the _Vlodoya_ can get there, for her best is only about
sixteen."
"No, papa," said Sophie, "I've not failed yet. If my engineer is only
faithful, and that accident to the machinery happens, we shall get
them all the same. I will promise him anything and everything, and he
will be faithful. And then I have another plan."
"Ah! And that?"
"The marquise--she will be on board--she's a Frenchwoman, she loves
this Hardress, and hates this American girl. Sooner or later she knows
that it must be war to the knife between them, and better sooner than
later, for they say that he is already half-betrothed to Miss Vandel.
At the same time, Hardress is by no means indifferent to her own
fascinations. I will make her an ally--for the present, at least. She
knows well enough that were the American conveniently disposed of she
could soon console the viscount for his loss. I will show her how she
may be got rid of, and how she, Adelaide de Conde, may marry the man
who may, as she believes, soon be master of the world. A clever woman
with a great end to gain will be of infinite service to us on board
the yacht. At present she is half-hostile to us--for she has a
suspicion that our expedition is meant to forestall the French one.
Now I will make her wholly our friend by showing her how she may not
only gain the desire of her heart, but also ensure the success of the
French expedition; for, after all, you must remember that we are bound
to co-operate with them to a certain extent, for they at least have
been clever enough to keep the specification of the works to
themselves, and till we get possession of them we can do nothing
without Fargeau, even if we were masters of the works. Yes; I think,
after all, Adelaide, since she must be either friend or enemy, will be
a better friend than enemy: and friend she shall be before she sails
on the _Nadine_."