“The Baroness von Tulken.”
I remembered the name. It had been given me as that of a woman of much influence at the court who was said to be taking an important part in political affairs. But I could think of no reason why she should flounce down on me almost at the moment of my arrival. I hesitated therefore whether to see her. But I decided I would. If time is not too pressing, it is generally best to see people at once and get at the kernel of their business in a couple of minutes, instead of letting them worry you with correspondence.
There was the chance, too, that under the circumstances she might have some information to give or sell; and I was speculating who she might be and what she wanted, as I went to her.
But I knew her the moment my eyes fell on her, before I saw her face; and I started and caught my breath in surprise and some dismay. I could have wished her anywhere in the world except in Belgrade at that particular juncture.
She was looking out of the window as I entered, and when she turned gave me one quick glance.
“Ah, then it is you, Chase,” she cried, as she came toward me both hands extended and uttered my Christian name, with a smile on her handsome face, as though the meeting were just the loveliest thing that ever happened for us both.
CHAPTER XIV.
ELMA.
A large, long room on the first floor of a house in Prague; the furniture, once rich, now sadly worn; the lights dim except over one table where cards were scattered on the green cloth as they had been left by the players; close to it, partly in shadow, a second table with drink and glasses; near it an overturned chair; away in the gloom a cowering figure on a settee with old hands pressed strenuously on the hidden face; and in the centre a queenly woman, beautiful as a picture, white-faced, distraught and trembling, but struggling to appear defiant as she faced a boy of nineteen who was regarding her with looks in which hot love, horrified repugnance and disgust struggled with the bewildering pain of the knowledge of her unworthiness. She had been caught red-handed in the flagrant use of the tricks of a common card cheat; and the rest had gone, with flouts and scoffs and jeers, leaving the two, the boy, face to face with the sudden consciousness of her shame, and suffering as only a boy in his calf love can suffer: the woman, scared and confused, but wrathful and relying defiantly upon the power of her beauty.
I was the boy; and Elma Dreschkel, now the Baroness von Tulken, was the woman. We had not met since that night; but the picture flashed back upon my memory, resistlessly and instantaneously, as I felt once more upon me those dark, dangerous, and strangely compelling eyes of hers.
“You are surprised, of course; but you will not refuse me your hand,” she said, as I hesitated to take hers.