Chapter Twenty Six.
Edna Makes a Proposal.
“Well,” I inquired at last; “and your reason for seeing me this evening?”
She hesitated, as though uncertain in what manner to place her project before me. She moved uneasily, and, rising, drew forth a large dispatch-box from its leathern case and placed it upon the table. I noticed that the outer case bore a count’s coronet with a cipher beneath.
Having opened the box with a tiny gold master-key which hung upon her bracelet, she drew forth some official-looking papers, and with them returned to her chair.
“You have already been entrusted with a secret, which you have not betrayed—the secret of that unfortunate occurrence on the evening when accident first brought us together,” she commenced gravely. “Therefore I feel convinced that any further confidence placed in you will not be abused.”
“I am honoured to think, madam, that you should entertain such an opinion of me,” I said, not, however, without the slightest touch of sarcasm.
I did not forget that she had only rescued me from my enemies in return for my silence. She was not a woman to act without strong motives. Moreover, she had admitted knowledge of that strange midnight crime at The Boltons, and was, therefore, an accessory after the fact.
“You are the Prince’s confidential agent here, in London, and I come to you on a mission direct from His Serene Highness.”
“From Bulgaria?” I inquired.