'Bah!' the Countess cried, trembling with emotion. 'Don't let me hear his name! I hate him. He is false. False, girl. I do not trust him; I do not believe him; and I would to Heaven we were out of his hands!'
Even Marie Wort, sitting white and quiet in a corner, looked up at that. As for Fraulein Max, she passed her tongue slowly over her lips, but did not answer; and for a moment there was silence in the room. Then Marie said very softly, 'Thank God!'
My lady turned to her roughly. 'Why do you say that?' she said.
'Because of what I have learned since you left us,' the girl answered, in a frightened whisper. 'There was a man who lived in this house, my lady.'
'Yes, yes,' the Countess muttered eagerly. 'I remember he begged of me, and General Tzerclas gave him money. That was one of the things that blinded me.'
'He hung him afterwards,' the girl whispered in a shaking voice. 'By the river, in the south-east corner of the camp.'
The Countess stared at her incredulously, rage and horror in her face. 'That man whom I saw?' she cried. 'It is not possible! You have been deceived.'
But Marie Wort shook her head. 'It is true,' she said simply.
'Then Heaven help us all!' the Countess whispered in a thrilling tone. 'For we are in that man's power!'
There was a stricken silence after that, which lasted some minutes. The room seemed to grow darker, the house more silent, the road on which they looked through the unglazed window more dusty, squalid, dreary--dreary with the summer dreariness of drought. One of the waiting-women began to cry. The other stood bolt upright, looking out with startled eyes, and lips half open.