Evidently the girl was angered. "Do you threaten me?" she said, with flashing eyes.
"And if I do, what then?"
"Simply that I will not be threatened. If you speak to me in that fashion, I refuse to move another finger."
"I am not in the habit of having my plans destroyed by the whims of a petulant woman," said the Count very quietly. "I tell you that if you fail to keep him in London, and if you fail to make him your slave, ready to obey your every bidding, you pay the penalty."
"What penalty?"
"What penalty?" and the Count laughed. "Need you ask that? You are in my power, Countess Olga Petrovic. I know every detail of your history—every detail, mind you—from the time you were waiting-maid to the Czarina. Yours is a curious history, Countess. How much would your life be worth if it were known to the British authorities that you were in London? What would our German friends do to you if they knew the part you played at Warsaw?"
"You know of that?" she gasped.
"I know everything, Countess. But I wish you no harm. All I demand is that you gain and keep Faversham in your power."
"Why are you so anxious for him to be in my power?"
"Because then he will be in my power."