"I don't quite see why you should be so deeply interested," Angela said softly.
"My darling, there is a good deal of self at the bottom of it," Harold admitted candidly. "I shouldn't take all this trouble and run all this risk for a worthless creature like the Shan, unless I could see some benefit in it. I want to pin him down over those concessions, which will make my fortune. They will give me control over one of the richest tracts of land in Koordstan. In a year or two I shall be wealthy."
"Just as if it mattered," Angela whispered, rubbing her cheek against Harold's, "just as if it mattered, when I shall have so much. But don't forget that you have Mr. Benstein to deal with. You can't rob him of the stone which he has come by honestly in the way of business."
"Oh, I know that. And we must have the stone by ten o'clock to-morrow. But I have found a way out of that difficulty. Between ourselves, Lord Rashburn showed me the way. We have a rich Englishman who will advance the money and benefit politically and secretly at the same time. He runs no risks of losing his capital either, because he is certain to get it back from the Shan in time. When Mrs. Benstein has gone home we shall follow and settle the business out of hand. I wish she would go now."
"I should trust her," Angela said thoughtfully. "She will go in her own time and her own way; she will baffle those scoundrels yet, I am certain of it. My dear boy, do be careful. If you are found out——"
Angela paused significantly. There was a risk of the mine being fired at any moment. There was no more dangerous or cunning foe in Europe than Sir Clement Frobisher, all the more dangerous in that he had Count Lefroy for an ally. And the time before the Shan was getting perilously short.
"Wait upon events a little longer," Angela urged as she arose. "We must go back again, it is not wise to stay here any longer. Mrs. Benstein may want me."
Harold made no demur, pleasant as it was to linger by Angela's side. She held his face between her hands and kissed him, then he walked towards the curtain. The band was playing some passionate love waltz; there were murmurs of conversation and light laughter. It seemed almost impossible to identify intrigue and danger with so fair a scene.
The two wandered on together past the dancers and the couples sitting out, talking quietly together as if they had been no more than casual acquaintances. Harold was a dull-dogged Asiatic again, but he kept his eyes about him. The crowd grew less; it was more quiet in the region of the card-rooms. Several parties were deep in bridge here, the Shan of Koordstan amongst the number. There was a pile of gold before him; from the satisfied glitter in his eyes he was winning heavily. Harold gave a sigh of relief. He was free still to follow his own plans without the added responsibility of keeping the Shan away from the champagne. He had a passion for wine, but a deeper passion for play, and so long as the cards were on the green baize, he would think of nothing else.
"His whole soul seems to be wrapped up in it," Angela whispered.