"We had a jolly fire in the Prince's room when I left the Castle. Our monarch is subject to croup, you see."
"That is all, Franz." The man bowed and left the room. "What do you think of him?" she asked, after a moment.
"He has a very bad liver," was all Tullis deigned to offer in response. The Countess stared for a moment and then laughed understandingly. "I think he needs a change."
"I have a strange feeling that he is but one of a great many men who are in Edelweiss for the purposes I mentioned before. Now I have a favour to ask of you. Will you take this matter up with Baron Dangloss as if on your own initiative? Do not mention me in any way. You can understand why I ask this of you. Let them believe that the suspicions are yours. I trust you to present them without involving me."
"Trust me, my dear Countess. I am a very diplomatic liar. You need have no fear. I shall find a quick way of getting my friend Dangloss on the right track. It may be a wild goose chase, but it is best to be on the safe side. May I now tell you how greatly I appreciate your confidence in—"
She stopped him with a glance. "No, you may not tell me. There is nothing more to be said."
"I think I understand," he said gently.
"Let us change the subject. I have uttered my word to the wise. Eh bien! It may not be so bad as I think. Let us hope so, at least."
"I have a vague notion that you'd rejoice if we should catch your ogre and chop his head off," said he, coolly lighting a fresh cigarette. She liked his assurance. He was not like other men.
Glancing up at his sandy thatch, she said, with a rueful droop at the corners of her mouth, a contradictory smile in her eyes: "I shall rejoice more if you do not lose your head afterwards."