Norman Benedict sprang up in excitement. There was something in the girl’s face and voice that revived the nervous tremor that had affected him when the tremendous possibilities of the hints thrown out by Ludovics had first seriously impressed him.
“Do you mean to tell me,” he asked, eagerly, “that Count Szalaki has disappeared?”
“We have seen and heard nothing of him since the night he dined with us,” answered Kate.
The reporter paced up and down the room impatiently.
“What do you know about him?” he cried, at length. “Are you sure, Miss Strong, that—that his title was genuine?”
Kate had found the reporter’s excitement contagious, and she did not notice the bald discourtesy of his question. Her desire to gain Benedict as an ally in her efforts to re-establish the reputation of her father’s guest had become irresistible.
“We know,” she admitted, “that there is no such title as that of Count Szalaki in Rexania.”
Norman Benedict stood still and looked down at her with an expression of eager interest on his face for which she could not satisfactorily account.
At that moment the carriage in which Rudolph had gone on his futile mission in search of a physician rattled up to the gate, and before the reporter could put further questions to Kate the lodge-keeper had entered the room.
“The doctor will be here directly, Miss Strong,” said Rudolph, nervously. “Shall I dismiss the carriage?”