“Thank you. I will wait for Mr. Rosen’s arrival.”
The bright girl courtesied, and with a look of admiration at John left the room precipitately. Left alone, John lit a cigar and began studying the map he always carried with him. He calculated that he would make Kilometer 34 in about four hours, despite the rain and bad roads. This would mean that their first resting place would be some thirty kilometers further in the mountains. That would be well, indeed. But, again, doubts arose in his mind as to what the Princess herself would do. She was the unknown quantity which he knew not how to allow for. However, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
The door was softly opened and Rosen entered, carefully closing it behind him. The two men wasted no time in idle talk but set themselves at once to the business in hand. Rosen was pleased to learn that the team and the men had arrived. He himself would see to the delivery of the packages at Herr Morton’s inn to Papiu. It would not be necessary for John to return to the inn as he, Rosen, would discharge the bill and see to his baggage. The landlord was all right, there was nothing to fear from that quarter; but there were spies about. He knew that. He was glad of the storm; it would be their best friend. Everything was working for them and—Rosen would see to the rest.
John was greatly relieved. He had to confess to himself that the enterprise had assumed, now that he was face to face with it, a rather dangerous aspect. He could never have managed without the assistance of this devoted man and his equally devoted daughter. He thanked Rosen, and proceeded to count out the gold for Marco, which Rosen would deliver.
John found the merchant quick and decisive in action, and a most interesting companion. He was a great admirer and devoted adherent of Count Rondell, whom he regarded as his benefactor. And as for the Comtesse Helène—ah—he and his would gladly die for the dear young lady. He mourned the sad turn of affairs, which for the time being, at least, would leave the Count penniless. He, Rosen, would remain in Roumelia for some time to look after Count Rondell’s affairs as best he could.
A discreet knock and Rachel whispered: “The Comtesse is awaiting Mr. Morton in the sitting room.” Morton rose at once and made his way to the room.
Helène stood near the window, apparently in deep thought. She was dressed in the identical garments she had worn the day before, but she looked even paler than then. Evidently she had spent a restless night. Her eyes were heavy, with dark rings around them; but the blue in them was a glimpse of heaven to Morton. She returned his cheery greetings with a wan smile and in words scarcely above a whisper.
John placed a chair and begged her to be seated. He told her of the success their preparations had so far met with and assured her smilingly that all would go well. What had the Princess said?
Helène sat and looked as if she were not listening to him. Her lips quivered and she nervously fingered the lace handkerchief she was holding in her hand.
“Mr. Morton, Her Highness is afraid to trust herself to a stranger. She is unstrung and I have not succeeded in persuading her to act as you propose.”