Read Ebook: The Woman of Mystery by Leblanc Maurice Matzke Albert Illustrator

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Ebook has 800 lines and 30249 words, and 16 pages

"Carry him to his room."

The prince was removed at once. Then the Comtesse Hermine went up to ?lisabeth.

Not five minutes had elapsed since the prince rolled under the table; and, after the din of the banquet, a great silence reigned in the disorderly room where the two women were now by themselves. ?lisabeth had once more hidden her head in her hands and was weeping violently with sobs that shook her shoulders. The Comtesse Hermine sat down beside her and gently touched her on the arm.

The two women looked at each other without a word. It was a strange glance that they exchanged, a glance laden with mutual hatred. Paul did not take his eyes from them. As he watched the two of them, he could not doubt that they had met before and that the words which they were about to speak were but the sequel and conclusion of some earlier discussion. But what discussion? And what did ?lisabeth know of the Comtesse Hermine? Did she accept that woman, for whom she felt such loathing, as her mother?

Never were two human beings distinguished by a greater difference in physical appearance and above all by expressions of face denoting more opposite natures. And yet how powerful was the series of proofs that linked them together! These were no longer proofs, but rather the factors of so actual a reality that Paul did not even dream of discussing them. Besides, M. d'Andeville's confusion when confronted with the countess' photograph, a photograph taken in Berlin some years after her pretended death, showed that M. d'Andeville was an accessory to that pretended death and perhaps an accessory to many other things.

And Paul came back to the question provoked by the agonizing encounter between the mother and daughter: what did ?lisabeth know of it all? What insight had she been able to obtain into the whole monstrous conglomeration of shame, infamy, treachery and crime? Was she accusing her mother? And, feeling herself crushed under the weight of the crimes, did she hold her responsible for her own lack of courage?

"Yes, of course she does," thought Paul. "But why so much hatred? There is a hatred between them which only death can quench. And the longing to kill is perhaps even more violent in the eyes of ?lisabeth than in those of the woman who has come to kill her."

Paul felt this impression so keenly that he really expected one or the other to take some immediate action; and he began to cast about for a means of saving ?lisabeth. But an utterly unforeseen thing happened. The Comtesse Hermine took from her pocket one of those large road-maps which motorists use, placed her finger at one spot, followed the red line of a road to another spot and, stopping, spoke a few words that seemed to drive ?lisabeth mad with delight.

She seized the countess by the arm and began to talk to her feverishly, in words interrupted by alternate laughing and sobbing, while the countess nodded her head and seemed to be saying:

"That's all right. . . . We are agreed. . . . Everything shall be as you wish. . . ."

Paul thought that ?lisabeth was actually going to kiss her enemy's hand, for she seemed overcome with joy and gratitude; and he was anxiously wondering into what new trap the poor thing had fallen, when the countess rose, walked to a door and opened it.

She beckoned to some one outside and then came back again.

A man entered, dressed in uniform. And Paul now understood. The man whom the Comtesse Hermine was admitting was Karl the spy, her confederate, the agent of her designs, the man whom she was entrusting with the task of killing ?lisabeth, whose last hour had struck.

Karl bowed. The Comtesse Hermine introduced the man to ?lisabeth and then, pointing to the road and the two places on the map, explained what was expected of him. He took out his watch and made a gesture as though to say:

"It shall be done at such-and-such a time."

Thereupon, at the countess' suggestion, ?lisabeth left the room.

Although Paul had not caught a single word of what was said, this brief scene was, for him, pregnant with the plainest and most terrifying significance. The countess, using her absolute power and taking advantage of the fact that Prince Conrad was asleep, was proposing a plan of escape to ?lisabeth, doubtless a flight by motor-car, towards a spot in the neighboring district thought out in advance. ?lisabeth was accepting this unhoped-for deliverance. And the flight would take place under the management and protection of Karl!

The trap was so well-laid and ?lisabeth, driven mad with suffering, was rushing into it so confidently that the two accomplices, on being left alone, looked at each other and laughed. The trick was really too easy; and there was no merit in succeeding under such conditions.

There next took place between them, even before any explanation was entered into, a short pantomime: two movements, no more; but they were marked with diabolical cynicism. With his eyes fixed on the countess, Karl the spy opened his jacket and drew a dagger half-way out of its sheath. The countess made a sign of disapproval and handed the scoundrel a little bottle which he took with a shrug of the shoulders, apparently saying:

"As you please! It's all the same to me!"

Then, sitting side by side, they embarked on a lively conversation, the countess giving her instructions, while Karl expressed his approval or his dissent.

Paul had a feeling that, if he did not master his dismay, if he did not stop the disordered beating of his heart, ?lisabeth was lost. To save her, he must keep his brain absolutely clear and take immediate resolutions, as circumstances demanded, without giving himself time to reflect or hesitate. And these resolutions he could only take at a venture and perhaps erroneously, because he did not really know the enemy's plans. Nevertheless he cocked his revolver.

He was at that moment presuming that, when ?lisabeth was ready to start, she would return to the room and go away with the spy; but presently the countess struck a bell on the table and spoke a few words to the servant who appeared. The man went out. Paul heard two whistles, followed by the hum of an approaching motor.

Karl looked through the open door and down the passage. Then he turned to the countess, as though to say:

"Here she is. . . . She's coming down the stairs. . . ."

Paul now understood that ?lisabeth would go straight to the car and that Karl would join her there. If so, it was a case for immediate action.

For a second he remained undecided. Should he take advantage of the fact that Karl was still there, burst into the room and shoot both him and the countess dead? It would mean saving ?lisabeth, because it was only those two miscreants who had designs upon her life. But he dreaded the failure of so daring an attempt and, jumping from the balcony, he called Bernard.

"?lisabeth is going off in a motor-car. Karl is with her and has been told to poison her. Get out your revolver and come with me."

"What do you intend to do?"

"We shall see."

They went round the villa, slipping through the bushes that bordered the drive. The whole place, moreover, was deserted.

"Listen," said Bernard, "there's a car going off."

Paul, at first greatly alarmed, protested:

"No, no, it's only the noise of the engine."

In fact, when they came within sight of the front of the house, they saw at the foot of the steps a closed car surrounded by a group of some dozen soldiers. Its head-lamps, while lighting up one part of the garden, left the spot where Paul and Bernard stood in darkness.

A woman came down the steps and disappeared inside the car.

"?lisabeth," said Paul. "And here comes Karl. . . ."

The spy stopped on the bottom step and gave his orders to the soldier who acted as chauffeur. Paul caught a syllable here and there.

Their departure was imminent. Another moment and, if Paul raised no obstacle, the car would carry off the assassin and his victim. It was a horrible minute, for Paul Delroze felt all the danger attending an interference which would not even possess the merit of being effective, since Karl's death would not prevent the Comtesse Hermine from pursuing her ends.

Bernard whispered:

"Surely you don't mean to carry away ?lisabeth? There's a whole picket of sentries there."

"I mean to do only one thing, to do for Karl."

"And then?"

"Then they'll take us prisoners. We shall be questioned, cross-examined; there will be a scandal. Prince Conrad will take the matter up."

"And we shall be shot. I confess that your plan . . ."

"Can you propose a better one?"

He broke off. Karl the spy had flown into a rage and was storming at his chauffeur; and Paul heard him shout:

"You damned ass! You're always doing it! No petrol. . . . Where do you think we shall find petrol in the middle of the night? There's some in the garage, is there? Then run and fetch it, you fat-head! . . . And where's my fur-coat? You've forgotten it? Go and get it at once. I shall drive the car myself. I've no use for fools like you! . . ."

The soldier started running. And Paul at once observed that he himself would be able to reach the garage, of which he saw the lights, without having to leave the protecting darkness.

"Come," he said to Bernard. "I have an idea: you'll see what it is."

With the sound of their footsteps deadened by a grassy lawn, they made for that part of the out-houses containing the stables and motor-sheds, which they were able to enter unseen by those without. The soldier was in a back-room, the door of which was open. From their hiding-place they saw him take from a peg a great goat-skin coat, which he threw over his shoulder, and lay hold of four tins of petrol. Thus laden, he left the back-room and passed in front of Paul and Bernard.

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