The Automobile Girls at Palm Beach Part 12

Grace sang the plaintive old melody in her sweet, high soprano voice.

The Countess Sophia was enchanted. "What a charming song!" she declared.

"What an exquisite melody. I have not heard it before. Is it not one of your old southern songs?"

"Won't you sing, Countess?" begged Mr. Stuart.

The countess shook her head and smiled. "I do not care to sing alone,"

she avowed. "But I am sure Monsieur Duval has the throat of a singer.

Will you not sing a song of your country, Monsieur?"

"If you will sing a song of your land in return," answered the Frenchman quickly. Could it be that he, too, was curious to discover to a certainty the Countess Sophia von s...o...b..rg's nationality?

The countess dropped her eyes under Mr. Duval's steady gaze.

"I do not sing without an accompaniment, Monsieur," she said briefly.

Madame de Villiers looked annoyed. Grace and Ruth wondered why the countess should be so secretive. She spoke French, German and English almost equally well. On her library table Ruth had discovered a number of Italian books.

Monsieur Duval did not press his request. The Frenchman had very polished manners. Instead in a full baritone voice he sang the "Ma.r.s.eillaise." His audience was profoundly stirred. "You are a patriot, Mr. Duval," Mr. Stuart remarked.

Monsieur Duval's expression changed. But he said nothing. It was impossible to translate his peculiar look.

"Do sing for us, Countess," begged Grace later. "I know you have a wonderful voice."

"Remember, you are to give us a song of your country," Mr. Duval persisted.

The countess made no reply to him. But in a voice clear as a bell she sang:

"Thou art like unto a flower."

"But that is an English song," expostulated Mr. Duval when the countess had finished.

"Yes, but it was written first by a German poet: Du bist wie eine blume," sang the countess, this time in German. "Shall I try it in French and Italian for you? The little song has been translated into every tongue."

It was evident to her listeners that the Countess Sophia von s...o...b..rg was proficient in half a dozen languages.

Grace thought she caught a glimpse of concealed amus.e.m.e.nt on Madame de Villiers's face. But the stately old woman said nothing.

The motor party had now arrived at the ostrich farm. Mollie, the countess and Bab ran on ahead. Ruth slipped her arm through Maud Warren's. The count joined them, but Ruth did not withdraw her arm. Maud did not seem to mind Ruth's "playing gooseberry." Maud was really becoming fond of the "Automobile Girls." It was plain, however, that the Count de Sonde had eyes only for Maud.

The Count de Sonde, who wore high heeled shoes to make him look taller, walked with the two girls. He talked constantly, using his hands and shoulders to emphasize his remarks.

"You see, Mademoiselle Maud," he explained. "My parents died when I was a mere infant. Most of my life I have spent in Paris. I do not often go to the Chateau de Sonde. But I love dearly the home of my ancestors."

"How much land have you around your castle, Count?" asked Ruth.

The count looked annoyed at the question. "It is a very large estate,"

he answered vaguely.

But Ruth was determined to secure definite information. "Is your chateau on a hill or in a valley?" she next inquired.

The count shrugged his shoulders. "It is on the side of a mountain, overlooking a valley," he declared.

The picnic party had now arrived in front of the cages containing the ostriches. The great birds were strolling about in fine disdain.

But Ruth's mind dwelt on the Chateau de Sonde. She was frankly curious about it. "Have you ever visited the Count de Sonde at his chateau, Mr.

Duval?" inquired Ruth, who happened to be standing next the Frenchman.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Count Walked With the Two Girls.]

"A number of times, Miss Stuart," answered Monsieur Duval. "The count and I are old friends."

"Is it built on a mountain or in a valley?" queried Ruth. She did not know herself exactly why she repeated her question.

"The Chateau de Sonde nestles in the heart of a valley," was Monsieur Duval's prompt answer.

He caught Ruth's eyes fixed on him with an expression of wonder. But it was Ruth, not Monsieur Duval, who blushed furiously. The man's eyes were gray and inscrutable. "Why do you ask, Mademoiselle?" he inquired.

"I don't know," Ruth answered lamely. The man frightened her. He seemed so brilliant, so traveled, so strong, so dangerous. And yet, he had just told Ruth a lie. Why should he pretend he had visited at the Chateau de Sonde?

"Come, everybody; it is time for luncheon," called Mr. Stuart an hour later, when his guests had finished their survey of the ostrich cages.

The "Automobile Girls" opened their immense lunch basket, which the chauffeur had set under the trees. The Countess Sophia insisted on helping the girls. She was all radiant smiles and gayety. She hummed a song to herself full of delicious, bird-like trills, in a voice that had been wonderfully trained. In every way the countess showed what pleasure she felt in the picnic. So much so that she was easily the central figure of the party.

Finally the entire company seated themselves in a circle on the ground, Maud Warren and her father with flushed faces. They had evidently been having a private altercation about the Count de Sonde. The count however looked serenely unconscious of the fact.

A sense of tranquility and cheerfulness soon stole over every one. The day was enchanting. The chicken and nut sandwiches and other eatables tasted unusually good, and the party did full justice to the tempting luncheon the Stuarts had provided.

All the guests laughed and talked at the same time. Suddenly the countess began to sing again in a low voice: "Knowest thou the land?"

from "Mignon."

The others listened with delight.

Down the avenue a vehicle was heard approaching. There was a cloud of dust enveloping it. It was impossible for the picnic party to distinguish the occupants of the carriage. The countess's back was turned toward the equipage. She did not look around. Mollie and Ruth were glad that she did not turn, for they recognized the two foreigners who had frightened the young Countess Sophia in the tea garden the afternoon before.

The men drove up to a palm tree near the spot where Mr. Stuart's guests were eating. They hitched their horse. Then they walked deliberately over to the picnickers. Without a word one of the men reached down. He touched the Countess Sophia von s...o...b..rg on the arm.

Undoubtedly he was German. His face looked threatening and his manner was insulting. His companion waited near him. The Countess Sophia shuddered as the stranger touched her. She trembled and turned pale like a frightened child.

"Madame," said the German, "you are wanted by the police. We have been sent to arrest you."

Mrs. De Lancey Smythe gave a hysterical laugh of triumph.

But the young countess quickly recovered her self-control.

"You have made a mistake," she returned quietly, to the man, whose hand still rested on her arm. "What have I done to be arrested? You have no right to annoy me."

"You are the notorious swindler wanted by the police of two continents,"