“You have succeeded in destroying my appetite, Count,” he declared. “Now that you have gone so far in expounding your amiable resolutions towards us, perhaps you will go a little further and explain exactly how, in this eminently respectable house, situated, I understand, in an eminently respectable neighborhood, with a police station within a mile, and a dozen or so witnesses as to our present whereabouts, you intend to expedite our removal?”
Bernadine pointed toward the woman who sat facing him.
“Ask the Baroness how these things are arranged.”
They turned towards her. She fell back in her chair with a little gasp. She had fainted. Bernadine shrugged his shoulders. The butler and one of the footmen, who during the whole of the conversation had stolidly proceeded with their duties, in obedience to a gesture from their master took her up in their arms and carried her from the room.
“The fear has come to her, too,” Bernadine murmured, softly. “It may come to you, my brave friends, before morning.”
“It is possible,” Peter answered, his hand stealing around to his hip pocket, “but in the meantime, what is to prevent—”
The hip pocket was empty. Peter’s sentence ended abruptly. Bernadine mocked him.
“To prevent your shooting me in cold blood, I suppose,” he remarked. “Nothing except that my servants are too clever. No one save myself is allowed to remain under this roof with arms in their possession. Your pocket was probably picked before you had been in the place five minutes. No, my dear Baron, let me assure you that escape will not be so easy! You were always just a little inclined to be led away by the fair sex. The best men in the world, you know, have shared that failing, and the Baroness, alone and unprotected, had her attractions, eh?”
Then something happened to Peter which had happened to him barely a dozen times in his life. He lost his temper and lost it rather badly. Without an instant’s hesitation, he caught up the decanter which stood by his side and flung it in his host’s face. Bernadine only partly avoided it by thrusting out his arms. The neck caught his forehead and the blood came streaming over his tie and collar. Peter had followed the decanter with a sudden spring. His fingers were upon Bernadine’s throat and he thrust his head back. Sogrange sprang to the door to lock it, but he was too late. The room seemed full of men-servants. Peter was dragged away, still struggling fiercely.
“Tie them up!” Bernadine gasped, swaying in his chair. “Tie them up, do you hear? Carl, give me brandy.”