GETTING READY
I don't like having to own that General von Erlanger went a little too far in saying that nothing could frighten me. The terms in which he had spoken of the Patriotic movement and his reference to its compassionless sacrifice of victims disturbed me profoundly.
I passed a sleepless, tumbling, anxious night; and if it be fear to conjure up all kinds of possible horrors, to shrink at the thought that even my life might be in danger, and to lie wincing and cringing and shuddering at the prospect of cruelty and torture, then certainly I was horribly frightened.
I was a prey to bitter unavailing regret that I had so lightly and thoughtlessly set out on a path which had led me to such a pass and brought me face to face with such powerful, terrifying, and implacable adversaries.
The temptation to run away from it all seized upon me with such force that I sought in all directions for reasons which would justify cowardice and clothe it with the robe of prudence. But my fears were confronted by the conviction that I had gone too far to be able to retreat without deserting Gareth; and at that my alarm took the shape of hot but impotent indignation at my lack of foresight.
Then my sense of honour and my fear had a struggle over that sweet, innocent, trustful, child, in which all that was mean and ignoble and cowardly in my disposition fought to persuade me to desert her; and before the night was half over had all but conquered.
I was tired of playing a man's part; and in those hours of weakness, the sense of responsibility was so cruelly heavy and the desire to be only a girl and just rush away from it all so strong, that once I actually jumped from my bed and began to dress myself with feverish eagerness to leave the house and fly from the city.
But I had not even the courage of my cowardice. The recollection of that sneer of Count Gustav's—that while my name still bore the stain I was not even the equal of such a woman as Madame d'Artelle stayed me. I tore off my clothes again and crept back into bed, to lie shivering at the consciousness that if I was afraid to go through with my purpose, I was even more afraid to run away from it.
I grew calmer after a while. I put aside as mere hysterical nonsense the idea that my life could be in danger. They had not even taken my father's life. If they found me in their way, they might devise some excuse for imprisoning me. That was probably the worst that could happen. It had been in General von Erlanger's mind; and he had promised to secure my liberty. I knew I could trust myself to him.
By reflections of this kind I wrestled with my weakness and at length overcame it; and in the end fell asleep, no longer a coward, but fully resolved to carry my purpose through and fight all I knew to win.
In the morning I began at once to carry out my plan. I sent a servant to ask Madame d'Artelle if she could spare Ernestine to come and help me.
Instead of Ernestine, Madame herself came—as I had anticipated, indeed. She found me in all the middle of packing; my frocks and things spread all over the room, and my trunks open.
"What does this mean, Christabel?" she asked.
"You can see for yourself. I have had enough of plots and schemes to last my life time. I jumped up in the night and half-dressed to run away. I was so scared."
"You are going away?" Relief and pleasure were in her tone.
I laughed unpleasantly. "You need not be glad."
"I am not glad," she replied, untruthfully.
"I am putting the work into stronger hands. That's all."
"You said you could protect me."
"I have done that. Count Gustav promised as much to me yesterday. You are free to leave Pesth at once if you like. You need not marry his brother unless you wish. And after to-day, not even if you wish. Is Ernestine coming to help me?"
"I wish you would speak plainly. You always frighten me with your vague speeches. You seem to mean so much."
"I do mean very much—far more than I shall tell you. You have been no friend to me—why should I explain? Take your own course; and see what comes of it. Is Ernestine coming, I say?"
"Yes, of course she can come; but I am so frightened."
"That will do you no harm," I rapped out, bluntly. "I wash my hands of everything."
"What am I to do?" she cried, waving her hands helplessly.
"I arranged yesterday with Count Gustav that the scheme for this romantic elopement should be carried out. You can play your part for all I care. The chief thing you can do for me is to send Ernestine here."
"But I——"
"Will you send her here?" and I stamped my foot angrily, and so drove her out of the room in the condition of nervous doubt and anxiety I desired.
With the maid's help my trunks were soon packed, and the work was nearly finished when Madame d'Artelle came back.
"Count Gustav is here," she said.
"Very well. You can close that box, Ernestine, and try to pack this toque in the top of the black one. You got everything I said for the voyage in the cabin trunk."
"He insists on seeing you, Christabel."
"I'll come down when I've finished." I spoke irritably. Irritation is the natural result of a couple of hours' packing.
Everything was ready when I went downstairs.
"I hear you are going away, Miss——"
"Gilmore," I broke in, giving him a look.
"I congratulate you on your—prudence." He too, like Madame d'Artelle, was obviously both relieved and pleased at the news.
"You need not smile at it. I am not doing it to please you, Count Gustav."
"I wish to ask you a question if Madame d'Artelle——" and he paused and looked at her.
"I don't see the need of all this mystery," she answered, tossing her head as she left the room.
"Please be quick," I said, snappishly. "I am both in a hurry and a bad temper—a trying combination even for a woman of my disposition."
"You have not slept well, perhaps."
"No. I had to think. What is your question?"
"About Gareth?"
"I shall not answer it," I said shortly, and frowned as though the subject were particularly unwelcome and disturbing.
"I think I can understand;" he answered believing he could read my mood. "And about Karl and Madame?"
"I have not forgotten your sneer. I will not disgrace him." I spoke with as much bitterness and concentrated anger as I could simulate, and was pleased by the covert smile my words produced, although I appeared to be goaded to anger by it.
"I will tell you one thing. She shall not either. By to-morrow some one will be here from Paris who will see to that."
"That may be too late."
"No. You dare not do anything to-day. You dare not," I exclaimed, passionately.
"You have told that to Madame?"
"No. She is nothing to me."
"You are very bitter."
"Again, no. You have only made me indifferent;" and as if I could bear no more, I hurried out of the room. I knew as well as if he had told me that the effect of my words would be to drive him to use the time of grace I had left him.
I did not wait to see Madame d'Artelle, but had my trunks placed in a fly and, taking Ernestine with me, drove to the depôt. She took my ticket for Paris, saw to the labelling of my luggage, settled me in my compartment, and waited me with until the train started. I wished the proof of my departure to be quite clear.
But on the Hungarian railways the trains do not run long distances without stopping; and at the first station I got out and returned to Pesth. I was back in my house with Gareth before one o'clock, and had already seen James Perry, who had returned, and arranged one of my next moves.
A wire was sent to Paris to a friend of his requesting that a telegram be despatched as from M. Constans, saying that he would be in Pesth that evening at nine o'clock, and would come straight to Madame d'Artelle's house.
That telegram was the weapon with which I intended to frighten Madame away from Pesth in order that I might take her place.
I had one more preparation to make. I wrote out orders dismissing the men servants at the house, "Unter den Linden," and signed them "Karl von Ostelen," taking great care over the signatures. These I gave to Perry together with money for any wages they might claim, and instructed him to drive with his son to the house after dusk.
I told him I should arrive there later in the evening in a carriage; and that if the men in charge of it attempted to stable the horses there, he was to say that the Count's orders were that they should not remain. After that he and his son were to be in the house: to say nothing about me to any women servants, and to act just as I directed.
Poor little Gareth was more impatient than ever at the lack of news; but I pacified her by saying I expected to have some on the following day; and to escape her somewhat fretful questionings, I pleaded a bad headache and went to my room and lay down.
I needed rest after my broken night, and succeeded in getting to sleep for two hours. I awoke greatly refreshed; and although I was excited at the prospect of the evening's work, I felt very fit and ready to face any emergencies. I was quite able now to laugh at my cowardice of the previous night.
"What news is it you expect, Christabel?" was the question with which Gareth greeted me when I went down to her. "I have been thinking of it ever since you told me."
"To find Count von Ostelen, of course."
"How are you going to find him? Do tell me."
"I was governess to the daughters of General von Erlanger, his Excellency the Minister, you know, Gareth. I saw him last night: I was at his house; and I know he can find the Count if any one can. That reminds me. I was to write to him."
I had forgotten his Excellency's injunction to send him a daily message. I took a visiting card and scribbled on the back "Quite well" over my initials, and was giving it to James Perry to take when an extra precaution occurred to me.
"You will see the General yourself with this," I told him; "but you will not let his servants know from whom you come. I can't tell you everything; but something has occurred which makes it necessary for me to send a message every day to General von Erlanger. If I forget it, you must remind me; for you are always to carry it; and always to see the General yourself. Tell him to-day that I have arranged it so. And listen carefully to this—if anything should happen to me and you think I am in any great difficulty, or trouble, or danger—don't look scared: nothing may come of it all—but if I am, then you are to go at once to General von Erlanger and tell him all you know."
He was an excellent servant; but well trained as he was, he could not suppress his curiosity and surprise.
"We have always been faithful, miss; mayn't I ask whether——"
"No, not yet. If there is need, I shall tell you—because I trust you as fully as I trust your father and mother, and I have a very high opinion of your courage and ability. At present, you have only to remember what I have told you to do."
Gareth was very inquisitive about my movements when, as the dusk fell, I began to prepare for the work in hand. She plied me with prattling questions; why I was at such pains over my dressing; why I took a large cloak on a night comparatively warm; what the thick muffling veil was for; and she gave a little cry of terror when her sharp eyes caught sight of the revolver which I tried to slip into my pocket unnoticed.
"You are such a strange girl, Christabel," she said.
"Every one tells me that; but I generally get there."
"'Get there?' What is that?"
"An Americanism, dear, for gaining your own end."
"Are all American girls like you?" she laughed.
"Luckily for them, perhaps, no. I'm from the Middle West and we have more freedom there than in the Old World."
"Do you all go about in thick cloaks with heavy veils and carrying arms?"
"Gareth, no," I laughed. "We only do these things in fancy dress balls."
"Are you going to one to-night? Oh, I didn't know."
"It's only a masquerade to-night—and this is to be the cloak over my costume."
"Oh, Christabel dear, why didn't you tell me? But you've a walking dress underneath."
"I am going to start for the masquerade from the other house."
"Will there be dancing? Oh, I wish I could go."
"No, no dancing; but I guess the band will play."
"I love music," she cried, not understanding slang; and I didn't explain it.
"I wish you weren't going, Christabel," she said, kissing me when I was ready to start.
"It will be a long evening and I may wish that too before it's over," I replied, with a feeling that that might well be so.
"You will be here with the news at the earliest possible moment to-morrow, won't you, dear? I am so weary of waiting."
"I hope I shall be successful and have good news to bring you."
"I am sure you will. I have such faith in you, Christabel."
She kissed me and with my cloak on my arm and those words ringing in my ears, I set out upon the risky business before me.