“Light the lamp!” she begged, “I do not like the dark!”
Desmond struck a match and kindled an oil lamp, which stood on the sideboard.
“Ah! my friend,” the girl resumed. “I took my fill of life with both hands. The year was 1913. Now I know that I was one of the German agents for the penetration of Belgium in preparation of what was coming. My mission was to make friends among the Belgians and the French and the cosmopolitan society of Brussels generally, and invite them to my house where your people were waiting to deal with them.
“My pretty villa became the rendezvous for half the rascals of Europe, men and women, who used to meet there with all kinds of mysterious Germans. Sometimes there was a scandal. Once a Belgian Colonel was found shot in the billiard-room; they said it was suicide and the thing was hushed up, but dame! now that I know what I know...
“Enfin! I shut my eyes to it all... it was none of my business... and I revelled in my robes, my dancing, my new life of luxury!
“And then the war came. I was at Laeken, resting after a visit to Rome. There was a lot of talk about the war amongst the people who came to my house, but I did not see how it could affect me, an artiste, and I never read the newspapers. My German friends assured me that, in a little while, the German army would be at Brussels; that, if I remained quietly at home, all would be well. They were very elated and confident, these German friends of mine. And rightly; for within a few weeks the Germans entered the city and a General quartered himself in my villa. It was he who brought the Crown Prince to see me.
“Mon cher, you know this young man and his reputation. I am not excusing myself; but all my life had been spent up to then in the bas-fonds of society. I had never known what it was to be courted and admired by one who had the world at his feet. Parbleu! one does not meet a future Emperor every day!
“Enfin! the Prince carried me with him back to Metz, where he had his headquarters. He was very épris with me, but you know his temperament! No woman can hold him for more than a few weeks, vain and weak and arrogant as he is. But pardon! I was forgetting that you are a good German. I fear I offend your susceptibilities...”
Desmond laughed drily.
“Madame,” he said, “I hope I have preserved sufficient liberty of judgment to have formed my own opinion about our future sovereign. Most Germans have...”