As he spoke he levelled his rifle again full at Zarka. The Count was not lacking in courage, or at least in a gambler’s recklessness, nevertheless a look of something very like the terror of death spread over his grey face. He threw out his arms.
“Shoot me if you will, madman,” he cried. “I am unarmed and at your mercy.”
The words may have been spoken almost at random, or he may have shrewdly felt that his adversary was a man of honour, of instincts very different from his own. Anyhow he could scarcely have hit upon a speech more to the point. D’Alquen did not fire.
“I should be sorry to cut short an interesting career,” he said with almost savage mockery, “or to anticipate its more formal and judicial ending. You undertook to show me some sport, Herr Graf, and I cannot deny that you have fulfilled your promise. You were right; it is much more interesting with two guns than one, and I am sorry that in your ardour for sport you have lost yours. But we must accept the fortune of the chase, and when we hunt big game we cannot have it all our own way. Now, as I have far to go, I must do myself the honour of bidding you good-day, with thanks for an entertaining afternoon. I fear I cannot trespass upon your hospitality at Rozsnyo, having already experienced my full share of it here. I should be afraid of putting your good nature and patience to too severe a test. Count, I have the honour.”
He touched his hat and, with a mocking bow, turned and strode off down the rocks, leaving Zarka standing there the picture of baffled malignity and speechless rage.
CHAPTER XX
A LIGHT IN THE FOREST
Philippa spent the rest of that day in a state of anxious indecision. Everything seemed against her. On all sides danger threatened, and her situation was made doubly distressing from the knowledge that there was no one with whom she could take counsel. Her lover, Von Tressen, would be ready enough to advise and protect her, but somehow she shrank from giving him the necessary explanation of her presence in that out-of-the-way region, and her intimacy with Zarka. The thought that they had been seen together in the forest alley filled her with angry shame; she longed for an opportunity of explaining her confidential relations with the Count, yet in the first flush of her love she dared not. What, she asked herself, would Von Tressen think of finding her there with the man she professed to fear and hate? Chance itself seemed to have joined her enemies; if only she had some friend from whom she could frankly seek advice. Her step-father, she felt, was absolutely untrustworthy; selfish and indifferent, he would be only too glad to play into Zarka’s hands. No. She must go through the fight single-handed, unless she could bring herself to call Von Tressen to her aid. Zarka had left her that morning, after the three men had passed, as her open and declared enemy, for she had remained firm in her rejection of his suit. His was one of those positive characters which gather strength from opposition: the blood of half savage, turbulent ancestors ran in his veins; his courtly manner was but an assumed mask, behind which was a strong, unscrupulous, vindictive will. Sooner than admit the success of a rival, he was capable, Philippa felt sure, of betraying her to D’Alquen. Ah, there was danger indeed, when once that fanatical avenger had resolved to strike. Towards sunset she had looked out and fancied she saw the man again watching the farm from his post of observation on the hill. It was horrible in that lonely region to be ever under that wild malignant eye, never knowing when the blow the watcher meditated might fall. Then a maddening thought came to her. What if this man had slandered her to Von Tressen? How much did he know? What tale might he not have told? The Lieutenant had not been to the farm that day. Why was that? Yesterday’s avowal of love should have brought him to her; and yet a whole day had passed and, but for that chance unfortunate rencontre, she had seen nothing of him. Everything seemed in a vortex of doubt and danger. It was more than Philippa could bear, and at last she resolved that, come what might, she would make a bold effort to see her lover without delay. Might not he be in danger too? Zarka had boasted of his power, and of his unscrupulous people. If he could put one man out of the way, why not another? Yes, she would seek Von Tressen at all hazards.
Once her resolve taken she waited impatiently for nightfall, for it was under cover of darkness that she judged it safest to make her way to the encampment. Then, giving the excuse of a headache she bade her step-father good-night, and went to her room, whence she easily slipped out of the house unobserved. She knew pretty well the direction in which the encampment lay; it was not far off, but the night was dark and thundery, and her progress was naturally slow. But she never hesitated or faltered, although the oppressive gloom and silence of the forest, the thought of danger from man or beast, might well have made her nerves play the traitor. On she went steadily, warily, threading her way through the great trees, on and on without a thought but of her purpose, for her situation had made her almost reckless save of one thing, the danger of losing her lover.
She had gone a good distance when the disquieting idea came to her that she had missed her way. The darkness was so impenetrable that it was almost impossible for her to tell in which direction she was going; she had boldly set out and held her course in a straight line, but now she suddenly realized that in that black mass of trees to follow a direct route was, certainly to her inexperience, almost impracticable. For a moment the danger of being lost in the forest rose to her mind; then she beat the thought down, and went on resolutely, trusting that chance would bring her safely to her destination. But chance was not her friend that day.
She calculated that, had she gone direct to the encampment, she must by that time have reached it. So she had evidently missed her way. There was nothing to be done but to keep on, in the hope of lighting upon the camp, since to attempt to retrace her steps would be futile. So she persevered for a while, but all to no purpose. She seemed only to get more hopelessly lost. Becoming desperate at length, and her fears beginning to rise now that her purpose seemed frustrated, she determined as a last resort to try and strike into the valley. Once there she could at least find her way home without much difficulty.