By Wit of Woman Part 13

Sharp, quick, keen suspicion flashed out of his eyes, but I was giggling so fatuously that it died away.

"Part of my sorrow and part of my punishment," he murmured.

I misunderstood him purposely. "Yes, she always looked on it as a kind of punishment. You see, she loved you so--and then of course we girls, you know what girls are, we used to tease her about it."

He winced and pa.s.sed his hand across his fretted brows as if in pain.

"You don't know how it hurts me to hear that," he said, simply. "G.o.d help me. When did you see her last?"

I knew the anguish at the back of the eager look which came with the question. But I laughed as if I knew nothing. "Oh, ages ago now.

Months and months--six months quite."

"Where? My G.o.d, where?"

The question leaped from him with such fierceness, that I jumped up again as if in alarm. "Oh, Colonel Katona, how you frighten me!"

"No, no, I don't wish to frighten you. But this is everything to me.

Twelve months ago she disappeared from Tyrnau, Miss Gilmore, lured away as I believe by some scoundrel; and I have never seen or heard of her from that time. You have seen her since, you say--and you must tell me everything."

It was easy to heap fuel on fire that burned like this; and I did it carefully. I affected to be overcome and, clapping hands before my face, threw myself back into my chair.

"You must tell me, Miss Gilmore. You must," he said, sternly.

"No, no, I cannot. I cannot. I forgot. I--I dare not."

"Do you know the scoundrel who has done this?"

"Don't ask me. Don't ask me. I dare not say a word."

"You must," he cried, literally with terrifying earnestness.

"No, no. I dare not. I see it all now. Oh, poor Gareth. Poor, dear Gareth."

"You must tell me. You shall. I am her father, and as G.o.d is in heaven, I will have his life if he have wronged her."

I did not answer but sat on with my face still covered, thinking. I had stirred a veritable whirlwind of wrath in his heart and had to contrive to calm it now so as to use it afterwards for my own ends.

CHAPTER VIII

COUNT KARL

Colonel Katona's impatience mounted fast; and when he again insisted in an even more violent tone that I should tell him all I knew, I had to fall back upon a woman's second line of defence. I became hysterical.

I gurgled and sobbed, choked and gasped, laughed and wept in regulation style; and then, to his infinite confusion and undoing, I fainted. At least I fell back in my chair seemingly unconscious, and should have fallen on the floor, I believe in thoroughness, had he not caught me in his rough, powerful arms and laid me on a sofa.

I can recall to this day the fusty, mouldy smell of that couch as I lay there, while he made such clumsy, crude efforts as suggested themselves to him as the proper remedies to apply. He chafed and slapped my hands, without thinking to take off my gloves; he called for cold water which the soldier servant brought in, and bathed my face; lastly he told the man to bring some brandy, and in trying to force it between my teeth, which I clenched firmly, he spilt it and swore at his own clumsiness.

Then, fearing he would try again and send me out reeking like a saloon bar, I opened my eyes, rolled them about wildly, began to sob again, sat up, rambled incoherently and asked in the most approved fas.h.i.+on where I was.

I took a sufficiently long time to come round, and was almost ashamed of my deceit when I saw how really anxious and self-reproachful he was.

But I had forged an effective weapon; and had only to show the slightest disposition to "go off" again, to make him abjectly apologetic.

I always maintain that a woman has many more weapons than a man. He can at best cheat or bribe; while a woman can do all three, and in addition can wheedle and weep and, at need, even faint.

It was a long time before I consented to talk coherently; and during the incoherent interval I managed to introduce my father's name.

"I am getting better. Oh, how silly you must think me," I murmured.

"It was my fault. I was too violent," he said. "I am not used to young ladies."

"Oh dear, oh dear, I am so ashamed. But she told me you were a very violent man. I wish I hadn't come."

"Who told you? Gareth?"

"No, no. In America. Miss von Dreschler. Oh, what have I said?" I cried, as he started in amazement. "Oh, don't look so cross. I didn't know you'd be so angry;" and I began to gasp, spasmodically.

"I am not angry," he said, quickly. "What name did you say?"

"That horrible girl with the red hair. I don't suppose you've ever seen her, in America. She said you were a villain and had been her father's friend; Colonel von Dreschler, he was. She said you'd kill me. But I'm sure you're kind and good, or dear Gareth would never be your daughter. She said horrible things of you. That you'd ruined her father and imprisoned him; and much more. But of course she would say anything. She was jealous of my friends.h.i.+p with Gareth, and red haired. And I don't know what I'm saying, but she was really a wicked girl. And, oh dear, if it's true, I wish I hadn't come. Give me some water please, or I know I shall go off again."

I gabbled all this out in a jerky, breathless way, pausing only to punctuate it with inane giggles and glances of alarm; and at the end made as if I were going to faint.

Had I been in reality the giggling idiot I pretended, I might well have fainted at the expression which crossed his stern, sombre face. At the mention of my father and his imprisonment, he caught his breath and started back so violently that he stumbled against a chair behind him and upset it; and only with the greatest effort could he restrain himself from interrupting me.

He was trembling with anger as he handed me the water I asked for; and when he had put down the gla.s.s, he placed a chair and sat close to me.

"Do you mean that Colonel von Dreschler's daughter knows Gareth?"

"Oh, yes, of course."

"Mother of Heaven, I see it now," he murmured into his tangled beard.

"It is he who has taken her away. What do you know of this?"

"Oh, Colonel Katona, what on earth could he want to do that for?

Besides, how could he?" I cried, with an empty simper.

"You don't understand, Miss Gilmore. Can you tell me where to find this girl--Miss von Dreschler."

"Oh yes. In Jefferson City, Missouri. I come from there. It's a long way off, of course; but it's just the loveliest town and well worth a visit;" and I was babbling on when he put up his hand and stopped me.

"Peace, please. And do you know Colonel von Dreschler?"

"Lor', how could I? He's been dead ever so long. Two years and more, that horrid little red-haired thing said. But of course she may have been fibbing."

He stared down at me as if to read the thoughts in my brain; his look full charged with renewed suspicion. But I was giggling and trying to put my hat straight; and with a sigh he tossed up his hand and rose.