Part 8 (1/2)
”Fiddlesticks,” she replied with the feminine faith in the man who had given her such tender care. ”Anyhow,” she temporized, ”our Privy Council, not you, shall be their judges.” With charming hesitation, she turned to make a suitable apology to Carter, when, as her eyes fell before his ardent gaze, they rested upon Carrick's heirloom lying on the table.
”Can it be?” she questioned as one in a dream. ”Is it yours?” she asked breathlessly, her whole soul in her eyes and parted lips, as she turned to Carter.
”No, Your Grace,” he answered, ”it is my chauffeur's.”
”Yours?” she skeptically inquired of Carrick. ”Where did you get it?”
”He probably stole it. He had it hidden under his s.h.i.+rt,” suggested Josef.
Her fine brows drew together in annoyance as she turned to look steadily into the crafty eyes of him she called Josef.
”You forget your place, sir. I gave you no leave to speak. Have you forgotten that I am the d.u.c.h.ess of Schallberg? Be silent until you are spoken to.”
Josef shrugged his shoulders after he had bowed apologetically, for he saw that the lady was no longer looking in his direction. Minutely, closely, she was studying the face of the c.o.c.kney; first red, then pale, her own countenance betrayed some inward apprehension.
”It cannot be,” she said huskily as if striving to dispel some doubt that would arise, ”and yet there is no other jewel unlocated. Please tell me how you got this,” she supplicated helplessly.
”Honestly, mem,” was all the satisfaction she could elicit, for Carrick made no distinctions between her and the servant whom he thought was her agent.
”I've no doubt of that,” she answered soothingly. ”Will you tell me your name?” Her eager, expectant face held an expression of one who half fears the reply.
”Carrick,” he answered with the monotony of iteration.
”Thank you,” she said in relief. ”Oh,” she cried as she espied their bonds for the first time, ”your hands are tied. This is intolerable.
Casimir,” she commanded the equerry, who had been keeping as much out of sight as possible, ”undo those cords. They are cutting into the flesh.
Messieurs, pardon my overzealous servants. Indeed, we have much to fear from strangers. Though you may mean no wrong to us, yet formality requires that you satisfy our Privy Council of your honesty in coming to our remote country at this particular time. Let us go at once, that you may the speedier be relieved of surveillance.
”Josef,” she said, turning to the Gray Man, ”if you so desire you may present your foolish charges there.”
She lifted her glance graciously to Carter.
”I have no fear for you, monsieur. You have the marks of an honorable gentleman.”
IX
IF ZULKA WERE HERE
”I've 'arf a notion to knock your block for a bloomin' sneak.” Carrick halted suddenly in the doorway of the cell to face Josef. The c.o.c.kney's fists were clenched in a manner which promised that action would immediately follow declaration. Carter intervened peremptorily while Josef discreetly withdrew out of reach of the tough, bunched knuckles.
Led by the d.u.c.h.ess of Schallberg, they traversed a stone-flagged, arched pa.s.sageway, which brought them to the main hall of the castle. A modern dwelling of average size could have been erected there without entirely exhausting the s.p.a.ciousness of the hall.
Tattered banners, gray with antiquity, hung like memories on the walls.
Below these, crumbling with age, were the antlers of ancestral deer, while arms and armor of heroic mold glimmered from the shadowy niches filled by them for generations.
Crossing the hall, the party led by Trusia approached a tapestried-hung archway, whose single sentry raised the heavy folds to admit her to whatever lay beyond.
Preceded by Her Grace, and followed closely by Josef, Carter and Carrick entered the Council Chamber of Schallberg.