AFTER THE ABDUCTION
"This is my revenge, Herr Fischer."
The words were spoken in an angry, taunting voice, quite loud enough for
many people round us to hear, and they looked at us in the broadest
astonishment.
They recalled my scattered wits.
"Captain von Krugen, what is the meaning of this?" I demanded in a
quick, stern tone of the man who was staring in abject helpless
bewilderment at the woman who had thus tricked us so cleverly.
"I am absolutely at a loss----" he began; but I cut him short.
"You have betrayed your trust, sir, and God alone knows what the
consequences will be."
Meanwhile the cries for the Queen Minna were growing in volume and
echoing all around us, and I saw the Baron Heckscher look across at me.
The men about the throne had unmasked. I thought rapidly. It was no use
wasting time in reproaching or abusing the woman who had fooled us. We
were in a mess which might ruin not only my scheme, but the whole of us.
While the people were still shouting for the Queen, I hurried back to
where Praga was standing, and in a few words told him what had occurred.
"She is the devil. I feared something. I'll----"
"Don't waste time. We have one strong card yet, and must keep possession
of it. You are still true to me?" I asked.
"As true as death, I'll show----"
"Then you must do this. Return at once to Friessen with all possible
speed--you and Captain von Krugen. Take the duke away anywhere, and
lodge him in a place of safety. If neither of you can think of a better
place, carry him to Gramberg; but one of you will probably know of some
place where he can be kept as a hostage. If I cannot hold him prisoner
our last hope is gone."
"She will never say----"
"I trust no woman again in a thing of this sort. Put him where she
cannot tell any one where he is. You will have to ride all the way, I
expect. No matter. Take the best horses in the stables here and ride
them to a standstill, if necessary. You must go at a hand-gallop the
whole way: or perhaps you can get a special train to Spenitz. Anything,
but for God's sake go--and at once. You can deal with the woman
afterward."
I called up von Krugen, and gave him the hurried orders.
"Remember at any cost to keep him a prisoner, and let me know where he
is."
These were my last words to the two, and spoken with almost fierce
earnestness. As I turned from them I beckoned Steinitz to me.
"I am going to speak to that woman in a dark domino. When I leave her
watch her as you would watch the devil, and let me know where she goes
and to whom she speaks."
I went back to Clara Weylin.
"Will you give me an interview presently?" I asked, very quietly, adding
significantly, "It will be safer."
"I am not afraid of you," she replied scornfully.
"It will be safer," I repeated.
"I don't wish to speak to you."
"It will be safer," I said for the third time; and then I crossed the
room to where the men clustered about the throne were waiting for me.
"Where is the Countess Minna?" asked Baron Heckscher; and he could not
restrain the evidence of his feeling of triumph.
"I regret that the Countess Minna von Gramberg is unable to be present.
Baron Heckscher has known for some hours that this would be the case." I
said this loudly enough for those about us to hear, and a glance into
the man's face told me that he knew of my sudden disappointment, and was
enjoying his triumph supremely. I kept out of my voice and manner all
signs of alarm or anger, and added quietly to the baron, "You had better
announce her indisposition, and stop this clamor."
On seeing me cross to the throne those who were leading the chorus took
up the cry for Minna with redoubled energy.
"I will not answer for the effect of the disappointment," he said.
"Yet you will have to," said I, with a look he could not fail to
understand.
"I don't understand you," he returned hotly.
"I will not fail to make my meaning quite plain," I retorted. "And you
may not find the course so clear as you think."
"What message shall I have announced?"
"That the Countess Minna von Gramberg accepts the high mission to which
she is called, but that to-night she is too unwell to be present," I
answered; "and let the message be given at once."
"We can't do that," he replied, seeing my object--to bind him to this
public acceptance of the throne by Minna. "She must be here in person to
make that possible."
"If that is not done and at once," I cried, going close to him and
speaking the words between my teeth, "I myself will proclaim the fact
that the man who was here a minute since was not the King, but your
dummy, and that the whole thing is a farce got up by you and these
gentlemen. You will then have to bring back the King himself, and you
can judge as well as I how he will view the acts that have been done
here to-night, and reward the actors."
"You dare not play the traitor in that way!"
"Dare not? I dare do more than that," and I clipped my words short as I
whispered them into his ear. "I dare stand up now and tell the whole
story of your double treachery, for I know it all: and, by God! if you
thwart me any farther I'll make my words good to the last letter."
I meant every syllable of the threat, and I made this perfectly plain in
my manner. Whether the man was actually afraid for himself I know not;
but he saw clearly enough that any such sensational statement made by me
at that juncture would inevitably result in the complete overthrow of
the scheme for which he had worked so hard.
"I don't affect to understand your meaning," he said; "but one way is as
good as another to put an end to a scene that must be ended somehow."
"Then give the instructions, and let the people see that they come from
you," and I drew back.
He called the man who had been acting as herald, and spoke to him in an
undertone; and the latter was turning to the people when I interposed.
"As this is the first utterance from the Queen, you had better have the
trumpeters call for silence, and let the herald end the declaration with
the formal prayer, God save the Queen."
This was done, though the men round me frowned in angry dissent; and as
soon as the announcement had been made the signal was given, the band
struck up for the dancing to recommence, and the throng of people began
to melt away from the dais on which we had all been collected.
So far, I felt I had done the best I could to repair the disconcerting
smash-up of my plans, and already I had in my thoughts a rough idea of
the line I would take later with the baron and his friends of the
Ostenburg interest. They had outplayed me at my own game, and had dealt
me a shrewd and clever stroke, which must have completely defeated me
but for the fact that I had kidnapped their man, the Duke Marx. For the
moment everything must yield to the necessity of keeping him secure, and
thus for some hours at least I dared not say a word to let them know
what I had done with him.
I calculated that von Krugen and Praga would take about five hours to
get to the place where he was concealed, and they would need at least
further four or five hours to get him to some other spot. That at the
least. I had given them a difficult piece of work, but they were both
resolute and indeed desperate men, and I had ample confidence that,
given sufficient time, they would overcome the difficulty. It was now
past midnight, and I reckoned, therefore, that I must hold my tongue
about the duke until the following morning.
In the mean time I had the problem of Minna's whereabouts to solve. I
must also ascertain whether the woman had told anything of the part
which she and Praga had played together in getting hold of the duke.
I looked round the room in search of her, and, not seeing either her or
Steinitz, I was moving off the dais to make a tour of the rooms to find
her, when the two men Kummell and Beilager stopped me.
"You promised an explanation of your conduct," said the former in a
curt, angry tone. "Be so good as to give it."
"You will have an ample explanation later, gentlemen. Matters of greater
moment are pressing me now."
"Nothing could be of greater moment than the reason for the Countess
Minna's non-appearance here to-night; for that statement about her
indisposition was, of course, untrue."
"It was untrue, as you say. But until the whole matter can be told it is
a waste of valuable time to discuss a small part of it," I answered
coolly, although the insult in his tone and words was more than galling.
"I differ from you, and demand an explanation at once--or I shall draw
my own conclusions."
"That is at your discretion. You have taken a course throughout this
which makes you largely responsible for the result."
"Do you insinuate that we are in any way responsible for spiriting away
the countess?" he asked hotly.
"I must decline to discuss this with you in your present frame of mind
and temper. Your manner to me is an insinuation and an insult."
"You will have to discuss it all the same, or I will publicly insult you
here, in the presence of the whole room."
The hot-headed fool was likely to spoil everything.
"That must also be as your indiscretion prompts you," I returned
sharply. "If you think you will serve the interests of my family by
wrangling here, and causing me to run you through the body afterward,
take your own course. But you will do far better to keep a sharp watch
on the man who has apparently been duping you--I mean Baron
Heckscher--and try to thwart the deep scheme he has laid."
"I believe you to be a traitor; to have worked openly for the Countess
Minna, and secretly to have intrigued against her; and that you have
kept her out of the way purposely in the interests of the Ostenburg
family. You are a spy; nothing better."
"And you are a foolish little man, whose sight is as short as your
temper, and whose wits are as dull as your silly suspicions are keen.
You are the dupe of the Baron Heckscher."
"You shall answer to me for this--or at least you should, if you were
worthy of consideration."
He was so angry and excited that he could scarcely keep from striking,
and this last insinuation of his had leapt out in his exasperation.
I had been expecting something of the kind, and it prepared me for the
line which the rest would take later; but at that moment I caught sight
of Steinitz, moving among the crowd in the distance, and I put an end to
this altercation promptly.
"When you know the facts, sir, you will be far more ready to apologize
to me than to challenge me. But if you should then wish this matter to
go forward, you will not find me in the least unwilling."
I bowed ceremoniously and, putting on my mask again, hurried away after
Steinitz.
It was quite clear now that these men had got hold of some tale from the
two lawyers about me, and the baron was quite shrewd enough, in order to
separate from me the only two men among the leaders who were really
loyal to Minna, to turn it to good account by proclaiming me a spy in
the Ostenburg interest.
It was an exceedingly plausible story to account for my having kept
Minna out of the way. In the mean time my anxiety on her account was
growing very keen, and had I not known that happily von Nauheim was laid
by the heels and, as I sincerely hoped, badly hurt, I should have been
desperate enough. As it was, however, I held a hostage for her safety,
and I was eagerly impatient for the moment to come when I could show the
baron the real strength of my position.
Steinitz pointed out to me the actress, who had thrown off her domino,
and was standing in the middle of a group of men and women laughing and
talking merrily. I shouldered my way among the promenading dancers to a
spot near her, and then stood forward that she might see me. As soon as
she caught sight of me she threw a glance of angry defiance in my
direction, and, turning her back, recommenced her gay chatter with her
companions. But I was in no mood to let her trifle with me nor to allow
her to think she could treat me as she pleased. I went up and requested
an immediate interview.
"Can't you see that I am engaged? My dance card is full," she replied,
with supercilious nonchalance.
"The business that I have with you cannot wait," I said firmly. "And if
you cannot give me a private interview, I shall be compelled to discuss
it here and now in public."
She looked at me to see if I were in earnest, and apparently came to the
conclusion that I was, for with an angry toss of the head she said:
"I can spare you three minutes until my next dance."
I led her to one of the many luxurious cosy corners of the place.
"You have taken a very bitter revenge, and a very cowardly one, for no
real offence," I said. "Is your anger satisfied with the one stroke, or
am I to look for another?"
"I warned you that you had made an enemy of me."
"And you have made the warning good. Have you done anything else? You
know I refer to your work to-day at Friessen."
"If I can harm you I will."
"And Praga?"
"I hate you!" she cried, with intense bitterness.
"You have given ample proof of that. Have you betrayed him in regard to
that affair of to-day?"
"I shall not tell you. Who are you that you should cross-question me in
this manner? I am no servant of yours."
"Have you told the people for whom you have to-night tricked me that you
have decoyed the Duke Marx into the hands of those who, if need be, will
take his life?"
I struck home with this thrust; and she glanced about her in manifest
alarm.
"Don't speak like that," she cried in a hurried whisper. "There is no
fear of anything of that kind."
"You mistake," I answered shortly and sternly. "If anything happens to
the girl whom you have betrayed to-night, the man whom you lured away
will pay for it with his life; and I myself will explain every detail of
your share in the matter."
It was a little cowardly to play on her fears in this way; but it was
not my own safety--it was Minna's--I was fighting for.
The woman's agitation increased with each word.
"It must not be. It shall not be. You dare not," she cried.
"There is no dare not in schemes like these," I answered grimly.
"But I was promised there should be no violence."
"You had not then played us false and worn that domino."
"I will go at once and tell all I know," she exclaimed excitedly.
Good. She had not told.
"It is too late. You were the decoy, but the duke is now in the hands of
my men, and no power on earth can save him if I but issue the order. Do
you think I do my work so poorly as to leave him where you, or those
whom you send, could find him?"
She sat, her fingers interlocked and her eyes staring in a fixed, set
gaze of abject fright, while her breath came and went with quick catches
of agitation.
"You have played the subtle part of double treachery, and you will find
it deadly dangerous," I went on sternly.
It was necessary to frighten her thoroughly for the object I had, and I
let a couple of minutes pass in silence, while this conviction of her
danger forced itself home. Then I opened the door of relief.
"It rests with you to save his life, and your own, and Praga's," I said.
She was too panic-stricken to act, and the hope in her face at my words
made me rejoice.
"Save the Countess Minna von Gramberg. Help me to find her."
The light died out as suddenly as it had come.
"I cannot. I know nothing of her whereabouts."
"Tell me all you know about this trick by which you personated her."
At that moment a man dressed as a Venetian gondolier approached to claim
her for a dance.
"I must know everything at once," I whispered hurriedly. "You must
refuse him."
It was a test of my power. If she went off to dance I should accept it
as a sign of defeat.
"I must not refuse. I dare not," she said nervously.
"You understand what it means," I replied in the same undertone.
The man came up, and the nervous movements of my companion's fingers
showed me something of her agitation.
"This is our dance, I think," he murmured, bowing.
"Yes, I--yes, it is," and she half rose from her seat, but then sank
back again. "But I am not quite well enough to dance. I am sitting here
for the cooler air. Please excuse me."
"Permit me to sit it out with you then," he said, and he turned toward
me as if expecting me to give way.
I did not budge, of course, but stared out in front of me as if I had
not seen his look.
"I am sorry, but--a friend has--has brought me some important--news, and
it has distressed me--and I wish to continue the conversation."
It was as clumsy an excuse as any child in her teens could have mumbled
out, and given in a manner altogether unlike her own. But fortunately
the man took umbrage at the obvious slight, and with a stiff bow went
off.
I had won again.
"Now you can tell me all you know."
"Wait a moment. Let me be quiet, or I shall faint."
She was now trembling violently, and I sat waiting until she should have
recovered her self-composure sufficiently to tell me the news I was
burning to learn.