My heart was beating with pleased anticipation of seeing Minna, though I was not without some apprehension as to how she would take the news I had to tell of myself and of the deception I had practised. Nor was I altogether free from disquieting fears that in some way there was danger to her from the presence of von Nauheim. I had, too, many plans to make regarding our future movements, so that I was in no mood for conversation.
Praga began to beguile the journey by attempting to tell me a number of piquant and characteristic anecdotes of his experiences; but he soon found I was not listening, and he then relapsed into silence, and sat smoking furiously.
Once when he broke a long silence his words chanced to chime with my thoughts and I answered.
"When am I to have my revenge on that brute von Nauheim?" he asked, his dark face lowering with anger.
"You have had much of it already, for most of his plans have miscarried."
"Ay, but I want to be face to face with him, with nothing between but a couple of sharp swords," and his eyes flashed as he spoke.
"That may come sooner than we think. I care not how soon," I said.
"But I do. Body of Bacchus, but I long to see him squirm and shiver and shrink when I fix his eyes with mine and press his sword with the touch of death."
"I have a score to settle with him, too, and it grows in the waiting."
"My turn first. You can have him when I've done with him—or at least what's left of him," he cried, with a callous laugh. "Not before. And what are you going to do afterward?"