"And I, your lover, do not," I observed reproachfully. "Well," I
continued, "answer me truly one question. Tell me whether, when you
called upon me on the last occasion in Paris, you stole a letter from my
desk--a letter from the Princess von Leutenberg?"
"From the woman who loves you?" she cried huskily. "Yes, I did."
"And you stole it at Bertini's instigation? He told you where it would
be found, the colour of the envelope, and the coronet and cipher upon
it, did he not?"
She nodded in the affirmative.
"And that same night you met him in a small cafe at Batignolles, and
handed him the letter? He was with his accomplice, Rodolphe Wolf."
"It is just as you say," she answered. "But how did you know this?"
"Because I myself watched you," I answered. "That letter was stolen to
be used against the Princess."
"And if it is, what then? That woman who offered to betray her country
in return for your love is my rival!" she cried fiercely.
"The theft of that letter was committed with quite another motive," I
replied. "That adventurer Wolf desires to marry the Princess, and with
his accomplice has made you his catspaw to obtain the letter, and thus
compel her to marry him. If she refuses, he threatens to denounce her."
"Has he actually threatened this?" she cried in surprise. "I never
dreamt that such was his motive."
"She is in Paris, suffering from this scoundrel's tyranny. As the man
is an adventurer and spy, marriage between them is out of the question."
She turned to me, and, looking into my eyes, earnestly demanded:
"Tell me, Gerald, do you love her, as they told me that you do? You
visited her at Chantoiseau, and it is said that you often went long
walks in the forest together. Besides, in Paris you met often at
various receptions and dances."
"True," I admitted. "We met often, and I have more than once been her
guest at the chateau; but as to loving her, such an idea has never
entered my head. She is a smart and attractive woman, like many others
in the circle in which I am compelled to move; but I swear to you, by
all I hold most sacred, that I never loved her in the past, and that
to-day is as yesterday."
"She loves you. That letter is sufficient proof of it."
"It was written in a moment of madness," I assured her. "She regretted
it a few hours afterwards, and asked me to destroy it. The fault is
entirely my own, for I neglected to carry out her wish. By my own
culpable negligence she is placed in this position."
"Yes," she replied. "Forgive me, Gerald; I acted under compulsion, as I
have always been compelled to act."
"Certainly I forgive," I answered. "But will it not be humane conduct
on your part to rescue the Princess from this terrible doom? Wolf
wishes to marry her for her money alone, and will force this step upon
her if we can find no means to save her."
She paused. Hitherto she had been jealous of Leonie, but now, upon my
assurance that I had no love for her, I saw that she inclined towards
mercy.
"If I could," she said at last, "I would assist her. But I cannot see
that it is possible."
"You can do so by explaining your own position to me," I said.
"Despicable though it may seem, the ghastly truth is, that you are
actually a spy in the service of France. If you do not seek to clear
yourself now, you may be condemned with your accomplices Wolf, Bertini,
and Yolande de Foville."
"That woman!" she cried quickly. "It was she who plotted against you."
"Then you have met her!" I exclaimed, surprised at this revelation.