"You may rest easy so far as I am concerned, Mrs. Titus," said the young diplomat. "As a representative of the United States government I can't become publicly involved in this international muddle. I've just got to keep my lips sealed. If it were discovered that I knew of all this, my head would be under the snickersnee in no time at all. Swish! Officially suicided!"
At ten o'clock the next morning I was called to the telephone. Smith had startling news to impart. Count Tarnowsy and Baron Umovitch had engaged in a duel with pistols at sunrise and the latter had gone down with a bullet through his lungs! He died an hour later. Tarnowsy, according to the rumours flying about official Vienna, was already on his way to Berlin, where he would probably remain in seclusion until the affair blew over or imperial forgiveness was extended to him.
There was cause for satisfaction among us, even though the baron had fallen instead of the count. The sensational affair would serve to keep Tarnowsy under cover for some weeks at least and minimise the dangers attending the Countess's flight from the castle. Still, I could not help feeling disappointed over the outcome of the meeting. Why couldn't Count Tarnowsy have been the one to fall?
The Countess, very pale and distrait, gave utterance to her feelings in a most remarkable speech. She said: "This is one of the few fine things that Maris has ever done. I am glad that he killed that man. He should have done so long ago,—the beast! He was—ugh!—the most despicable creature I've ever known."
She said no more than this, but one could readily grasp all that she left unuttered.
Colingraft rather sententiously remarked to little Rosemary, who could not have comprehended the words, of course: "Well, little Rosebud, your papa may be a spendthrift but he never wastes bullets."
Which was entirely uncalled for, I contend. I was struck by the swift look of dread that leaped into Aline's eyes and her pallor.
On top of all this came the astonishing news, by cipher despatch from old Jasper Titus's principal adviser in London, that his offer of one million dollars had been declined by Tarnowsy two days before, the Count having replied through his lawyers that nothing short of two millions would induce him to relinquish all claims to his child.
I had been ignorant of this move in the case, and expressed my surprise.
"I asked father to do it, Mr. Smart," said the Countess dejectedly. "It seemed the easiest way out of our difficulties—and the cheapest. He will never give in to this new demand, though. We must make the best of it."