“I will now tell you the truth, M’sieur Falconer. I told you that my husband is in England with the Serbian Mission, but the fact is that he was recalled to Belgrade two months ago, and on arrival he was immediately arrested by order of his enemy, the President of the Council, Andra Nikolitch. A false charge of treason was brought against him, and he was tried in secret and shot,” and her voice trembled with emotion. “He was entirely innocent. Of that I know. Hence we have resolved to rid our country of certain of its unjust rulers.”
“Then you are a widow, madame,” Falconer remarked. “And what is intended is your revenge—eh? My silence will cost Andra Nikolitch and others their lives!” he added very slowly.
“Yes,” said the man who had urged his companions to kill him there and then. “Understand, it is either your life—or theirs!”
The young engineer did not reply.
“You are now one of us,” the man went on in a deep, hard voice. “From this moment you will be closely watched, and any attempt you make to reveal what you know to any person will be followed immediately by death. Please do not forget that!”
“I must now hurry back to my father,” said madame. “The meeting is at an end.”
And Falconer left the house with her and returned to Alpnach.
He could now understand Marya’s wild, bitter hatred of the man who had sent her innocent husband to his death. On the way back he again mentioned it, but she seemed disinclined to discuss the tragedy.
“When is the blow to be dealt!” he asked in a low whisper in order not to be overheard.
“I do not know,” was her answer, “The time is not fixed.”