“Unless some arrangement is very soon entered into I cannot keep all these gentlemen waiting. We shall have to proceed with the sale.”
“Do you hold my bid?” said Volenski. “I said ‘Ten thousand pounds.’ ”
“Twenty thousand,” said Madame Demidoff quietly, as if she were talking of so many pence.
“Twenty thousand pounds,” said the auctioneer, “for a pair of candlesticks. Both this gentleman and this lady are quite unknown to me. I shall have to have some guarantee from both that the money will be paid when the articles are ultimately knocked down, otherwise I must refuse to have the valuable time of these gentlemen taken up any longer. I think some arrangement should be entered into,” he repeated again. “In the meanwhile the last bid of twenty thousand holds good.”
Volenski was about to make an angry retort, for he was boiling over with suppressed excitement, when he felt a hand gently laid on his arm. He turned like an animal at bay and faced the enemy, who certainly at that moment did not seem very formidable. The enemy was beautifully dressed—all in black; it had dark eyes, which looked almost pleadingly into Volenski’s wild ones, as if they meant to read what was passing in his thoughts, and it had a voice which spoke with the softest Russian accent he had ever heard; it had, moreover, a tiny hand, exquisitely gloved, which was resting, like a timid bird, on Volenski’s coat-sleeve. At last the enemy spoke.
“Monsieur,” it said in Russian, “we seem to be fighting a terribly fierce battle, you and I. Suppose we have a few moments’ armistice; will you accept the white flag?”
Volenski gave a faint nod of acquiescence.
“We have, monsieur, you and I, evidently both set our hearts on being possessed of those candlesticks. I wonder if your motive is as pure as my own? Those candlesticks, monsieur, were confided to me by a friend; they were lost while under my charge. I wish to be the one to restore them to him, even if it is to cost me half my fortune.”
“Madame,” replied Volenski, “I honour your motive, but these candlesticks were originally entrusted to my master, the Cardinal, by his Majesty the Emperor himself. They shall be restored to his Eminence, but it shall be through my hands.”
“Ah!” said Madame Demidoff sneeringly, “you wish to claim a reward.”