“He is very kind,” she said slowly with a glance at Cyril. “Of course—I shall be very glad.”
The officer replaced his cap and, turning to Hammersley, spoke in German.
“His Excellenz also requests that Herr Hammersley will remain within call.”
Hammersley bowed.
“Tell his Excellenz with my compliments that with his permission I will smoke my pipe here in the kitchen garden.”
Doris followed the officer into the room they had just left and von Stromberg joined her almost immediately.
“Ach, gnädiges Fräulein,” he said with his blandest manner, “you will forgive me for calling you back from your contemplation of the beauties of this lovely afternoon, but there are certain questions, merely trifling ones, which have to do with the fate of Herr Rizzio which I neglected to ask you. You will not begrudge an old man the privilege of a few words over a cup of chocolate?”
She smiled at him bravely, as a woman can do, even in a last extremity, and told him that she was flattered by this mark of his condescension.
A wave of the hand and Wentz disappeared, while Lindberg, the lame man, entered with the chocolate. The General had the tray put upon the table before her and asked her to serve it, standing erect and watching her with open admiration. Doris was frightened, for she had already seen the power that this old man possessed. But with an effort she found her composure and made up her mind that if she was alarmed von Stromberg at least should not be aware of it. The safest defense against such a man was audacity.
“You were feeling ill,” he said, suavely sympathetic. “The long morning in the train and the strain of your ordeal. It is but natural. A little cup of chocolate and a biscuit should revive you wonderfully. Nicht wahr?” His English, though excellent, had a slight German accent and his tone the quality of a lullaby,