"Booked through to Konopisht not a foot from the back of your head in the adjoining compartment——"
And then as she straightened in alarm and regarded the cushioned seat behind her in sudden terror, "But I do not think you need be unduly alarmed. We can——"
"They are following me!" she whispered. "But why? Why?"
"Because of your friendship with the Duchess. Those who plan the death of the Archduke are in no humor to fail."
"Incredible! And they——" she halted again, breathless with apprehension.
"I fear, Countess Strahni, that your mission to Konopisht has now become a difficult one. That is why I thought it better to go with you. The men who are following you are moving with considerable insolence and confidence. They will carry out their orders unless circumvented."
"But how?" she whispered, her anger of a moment ago magically transmuted. "What can I do?"
He gazed out of the window at the blur of night and smiled.
"To begin with," he said politely, "they think you are alone. You see, I might help you, Countess Strahni, if you could manage to endure my presence for a few hours."
It was Renwick's innings and he made the most of them. Indeed, Marishka sat leaning forward looking at him appealingly, aware that after all here was the only prop she had to lean upon in this extremity. She did not speak. The wrong he had done her and Austria was great—unforgivable, but the merit of his service in this situation was unmistakable. Inimical as he might be to the sentiments in her heart, there was no disguising the relief his presence gave her or the confidence that radiated from his calm assurance.