Half an hour more!
How still the house was! I could hear the clock ticking—no, that thudding must be my heart. My wits failed me, my mind had become a blank, my throat was dry with fear.
"I've wasted an hour and a half over you, young man," said Clubfoot suddenly, "and it's time that this conversation was brought to a close. I warn you again that I am not to be trifled with. The situation is perfectly clear: it rests with you whether the Countess Rachwitz goes free or is court-martialled this afternoon at Cleves and shot this evening. Your suggestion is absurd. I'll be reasonable with you. We will both stay here. I will wire for the two portions of the letter to be fetched at the places you indicate, and as soon as I hold the entire letter in my hands the Countess will be driven to the frontier. I will allow her butler here to accompany her and he can return and assure you that she is in safety."
He stretched out his hand and pulled a block of telegraph forms towards him.
"Where shall we find the two halves?" he said.
"One is in Holland," I murmured.
He looked up quickly.
"If you dare to play me false...."
He broke off when he saw my face.
The room was going round with me. My hands felt cold as ice. I was struggling for the mastery over myself, but I felt my body swaying.