A Modern Mercenary Part 26

'Yes, I know. I know! But he is coming!'

'It was impossible! He could not leave His Highness. Isolde, you would not wish it!'

'What does anything matter unless it's found out?' cried Isolde, giving in her adherence to a common creed. 'Did you give him all my message?

Did you make him understand? Then, when all else failed, you asked him for the cigarette case? That would remind him----' Madame de Sagan spoke in growing agitation.

Valerie looked into her wild eyes.

'I forgot that,' she admitted.

Isolde shook the arm she held.

'You have killed him! Valerie, you have been jealous of me, and by your jealousy you have killed him! Had you spoken as I told you he would be here now--and safe! As it is he is lost!' she flung herself down among the cushions.

Her slender hands were clenched, her turquoise eyes stared wide and blind from her white face. She seemed to hold her breath as if waiting for the inevitable blow to fall. Valerie, greatly moved, knelt down beside her.

'What does it matter if we die to-night or a month hence?' Isolde spoke in a low voice; her heart had unconsciously been gathering up bitterness against Valerie, and she had no longer the strength to conceal it under this unbearable strain. 'Valerie, you have stooped to meanness--you who have so scorned meanness in others. You knew long ago what--Rallywood's love was to me. You have known my life, and much that I have to bear.

Amongst all who pretend to love me there is not one like him, not one!

He would be always kind and true. I think these are English qualities, for in another way there is Major Counsellor----' the weary voice broke off as if too tired for more.

It was well Counsellor never heard that little expression of opinion concerning himself; it might have proved the thorn in a somewhat callous diplomatic memory.

'You have betrayed me! You!' she repeated with a bitter laugh; then, springing up, she ran towards the spot where her sables lay heaped upon the floor just as Valerie had dropped them from her shoulders.

'It may be too late, but I will go myself. I will save him if I can!'

Valerie wrapped the cloak around her.

'Isolde, I will go with you.'

'You!' Isolde turned with a startling look of dislike and suspicion.

'No, I hate you, and I choose to go alone!'

Valerie drew back and Madame de Sagan pa.s.sed her by and flung wide the door. As she did so a confused noise could be heard, and the two women stood listening while a distant hubbub of voices rose louder, then a pistol shot followed by others echoed down the pa.s.sages.

'He is dead! By your fault!'

Isolde turned upon Valerie with a wild gesture, as if she would have struck her.

Valerie drew back.

'If you really loved him, Isolde, you would rather he was--there--with his honour--than--here--without it,' she said.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE SWORD OF UNZIAR.

The Castle of Sagan may be roughly divided into three irregular parts.

The ma.s.sive old keep dominates all, standing high and black against the skyline; then the varied cl.u.s.ter of buildings immediately around its foot contain the princ.i.p.al reception and living rooms, and lowest of all the courtyards, kitchens, stables and offices. To the right of the keep a wing, curved like the fluke of an anchor, slopes down to a lower level. This portion is fairly modern and arranged for the housing of guests. The Countess's own apartments were situated at the junction of this wing with the main building, while the quarters a.s.signed by ancient custom to the use of the reigning Duke during his visits to Sagan occupies the whole upper floor of an old and bulky annex that juts out from the base of the keep.

The pa.s.sage leading to this annex branched from the head of the grand staircase. Upon the landing rows of heavily armed men were gathering noiselessly.

As Elmur and Sagan stood together waiting at the mouth of the Duke's corridor, the Count turned to his companion.

'Have you proposals ready to lay before his Highness?' he demanded.

'In form,' returned Elmur, touching his pocket.

'That is well, for you are about to present them. The Duke lies practically in my power at this moment,' Count Simon continued grimly.

'Gustave is a coward. The way to his presence lies open, and I think you will agree with me that his Highness of Maasau will consent to most things rather than look the fear of death in the eyes!'

'There must be no violence,' Elmur began.

'That shall be exactly as I choose,' Sagan swore with an oath. 'By the good G.o.d we can't afford scruples to-night!'

After a short interval he went on.

'Once we have Gustave's word, we are safe. He is too proud to own that he gave it unwillingly. Besides, so long as we win what matter the means we use? Is your conscience so ticklish, Baron?'

'Politics have their exigencies and are inevitably rigorous, my lord,'

answered Elmur slowly. 'To be successful means absolution. In the political courts where our actions will be judged they make no provision for failure. Success is recognised and mercifully considered, while failure, my lord, not being in any sense public, falls to the level of ordinary crime, and is judged by the standard applied to ordinary crime.

Thus you will see that I risk as much in my place as you risk in yours.'

Perhaps this was as near an approach to a threat as had ever been uttered in the ears of the fierce old Count. With a violent movement, he stepped forward.

'There is no hindrance in our path that cannot be cut through with a sword, and, by my soul, if we find one I will cut it!' Then, looking round, he gave the word to advance, and entered the darkness of the corridor.

A turn brought them in sight of Unziar's tall figure, standing sword in hand on the lowest step of the flight that led up to the embrasure covering the door leading to the royal apartments.

Count Simon pushed Elmur ahead of him while he fell back to whisper a few words to the man immediately behind; then he took precedence once more.

'I request an audience of His Highness, Lieutenant Unziar,' he said.

'Certainly, my lord, if you will give me the pa.s.sword of the night,'

replied Unziar.

Sagan's answer was the countersign he had given to his own following in the Castle.

Unziar shook his head.

'You cannot pa.s.s, my lord.'

'What--not see my guest and cousin in my own house?'

'His Highness gave orders that none should be allowed to enter without giving the countersign chosen by himself.'