“Yes, but, Excellency,” she urged, pricked on by apprehension of what she dared not contemplate, “how could I know? How be to blame for a chance meeting?”
“A chance meeting? Really, Countess, it is best to be straightforward with me. A chance meeting? With the Princess visiting the chapel after dark, and a man hidden in the organ?”
“Let me explain, Excellency.”
“Ah! if you please.” He leaned back, slowly rubbing his white hands together as though feeling carelessly the talons that were ready to strike.
“The Princess had been playing the organ that afternoon in the chapel as is her habit,” Minna said, her voice dry with fear. “I was blowing the bellows for her as I always do, when this——this person came in and offered to take my place.”
“Ah! Just so. And this person was——?”
“The—the man who afterwards got inside the organ, Excellency, because——”
“No doubt. I ask you who he was.”
The name was on her lips; then, in the extremity of her distress, an idea, a desperate expedient flashed to her mind. She checked the answer and hesitated. Was this unfathomable old fox really ignorant of von Bertheim’s identity? The forlorn chance gave her courage and sharpened her wits. She could but try.
“Come!” Rollmar insisted.