“I intended to be quite comprehensive,” Irromar laughed, “and to include all pleasures, of every kind. The proportionate values vary with our dispositions. My highest enjoyment may not be, presumably is not, the same as yours. Captain Ompertz again will possibly differ from us both.”
“Mine,” responded the soldier with bluff humour, “is a good fair fight, either single-handed or in company.”
A smile, significant in its suggestion of a readiness to gratify the other’s desire, crossed the Count’s face. “You have seen much fighting, Captain?” he inquired casually.
Ompertz had begun a comprehensive answer, when a singular interruption caught Ludovic’s attention. The room where they sat was hexagon-shaped, its six walls being hung with tapestry of even more racy design than that of the dining hall. Suddenly a portion of the hangings was silently pushed aside; evidently a door had been opened behind it; and in the dark recess thus formed a woman stood. A woman young, beautiful, magnificently dressed, her breast and hair sparkling with diamonds, as was her white hand that held back the portière. Ludovic, sitting opposite, with his look startled into attention at the unexpected movement, saw all this in the instant that the apparition remained. He saw something more than this. A fearful expression on the woman’s face. Beautiful as in repose it could only be, it appeared at that moment distorted into what seemed a blending of all the darker passions. Fear and hate, jealousy, rage, all were there in the parted lips, the glaring eyes, the heaving bosom, the hand trembling on the curtain, and then, over and above all, a look of terrified despair. It was as a glimpse of hell, beauty marred in the sight by utter hatefulness. Then, scarcely realized, it was gone. The sharp turn of the Count’s head to see what his guest was looking at was only in time to catch the movement of the tapestry as it dropped into its place. But, whether he guessed or not, his air of easy entertainment was gone, or, at least, continued only by an effort. Ludovic soon rose and bade him good-night, finding it in his heart to wish that they were still sheltering in the broken carriage among the rocks, and had never stumbled upon a place of refuge which, with all its peculiar luxury, was somehow utterly distasteful to him.
“You will like, perhaps, to make an early start,” his host said in parting; “and my men shall be ready to go with you to the place where you left your carriage, although I shall be sorry indeed to part with guests as welcome as unexpected.”
He said this in a manner quite charming in its graceful cordiality. In spite of an instinctive dislike, Ludovic could not but be interested in the man whose character gave evidence of being so strangely positive in its many sides.
As Ludovic bade Ompertz good-night, the soldier, unseen by their host, bent on his knee and raised the other’s hand to his lips.
“Shall I ever hope for pardon, majesty?” he murmured.
Ludovic laid his hand kindly on his shoulder. “It is yours in full, my friend.”