“Hush! There is no time. I shall be missed and then—”
“Missed. Who—”
“Now! Now! Now! No one you need trouble your head about. But let me talk. I am here on a political mission—you must have guessed that. I cannot let you become involved in it. There are reasons—you will not ask me for them—but there are good reasons why you must not be suspected of any association with me or my work.”
Topham’s eyes grew troubled. “Tell me one thing,” he begged. “Tell me—”
“No! No! I can tell you nothing. I will not lie to you and I can not tell you the truth. You may suspect what you please. It is your right. But you may not ask me anything. It would do no good and might do much harm. That is why I pretended not to know you in the dining-room tonight. That is why I have slipped out to you in this guise. I could not come in any other. It is best that no one should know that you know me!”
“May I not meet you? May I not be presented? May I not—”
The countess’s breath came faster. “No! No!” she gasped. “No! No! I could not bear it. Besides there will be no chance. I leave tomorrow.”
The blood flowed back to Topham’s heart. Unconsciously his grasp upon the girl tightened until she could have screamed from very pain. “Tomorrow!” he muttered. “Tomorrow! Tomorrow!”
“I must.” The woman was sobbing. “I must! Duty calls. I have to leave for America—for Washington—for your own country, where I must work out my task. Where it will lead—what its consequences will be—God knows! I would give it up if I could, but I am bound by a promise to the dead. Dead lips can not give back the spoken word and I must go on. Ah!”—she turned and flung her arms fiercely around the man—“Ah! I am mad!—insane! But I love you! I love you!”
Over the shadowy pool the night mist hung, wavering in the starlight. A distant cataract—or was it a near-by rill—thundered away off in the night. The stones and grass were wet with dew. Topham saw them sparkling iridescent on the black island that rose in the middle of the lake.