"Good evening, Mr. Darcy," she said; "our poor houses seem to have an attraction for you; but may I venture to point out that private houses in Bloomsbury are not such public property as the walks at Felixstowe. Or perhaps," she went on, before I could open my mouth, "another trusty sword has come to range itself under my banner," and she pointed at my weapon.
I shook my head impatiently. "Your Highness knows well enough why I am here," I said, sternly.
"But that is just what Her Highness does not know," she said, petulantly. "Can it be possible you are on the other side—on Baby-face's side?"
"I am on the side where an English gentleman ought to be," I answered, "on the side of justice against injustice, of trust against black deceit, and of innocence against infamy."
"For one who does not know her, you sum up my pretty cousin's virtues very well indeed," she cried. "That is just what she is: trustful and innocent. Ten thousand curses on her doll's face! Fancy that baby on the throne of Schwannenwald in such times as are coming. But she shall never have it."
At that instant the clash of steel upon steel rang through the house. The Duchess sprang away from me as though I had pricked her with my sword.
"Heindrich! Von Zahn!" she called, shrilly, but only the Count rushed into the room. "That man must not escape," she cried, as she ran quickly past him, and out of the door beyond.
But I had no intention of attempting to escape. Now, if at all, was the time arrived when I was to earn that roll of notes which Von Bieberstein had forced on me that morning. I had taken up my position at the door by which I had entered, and waited sword in hand. Nor had I long to wait. With an oath the Count sprang towards me, and as our swords touched I knew I had to deal with an ugly customer.
THE DUCHESS HELD A SECRET MEETING TO SECURE THE THRONE FOR HERSELF.