ays been a studious hermit?" he demanded
proudly. "Besides, might it not be that my hand is unable only when I
don't want to use it?"
"That may be," retorted the lady. "But Barthelmy, who is perfectly
insane on the subject of his wife's infamy, would have the advantage of
you. He is suspicious of every stranger; and of all the gossip which
environs you, the legend of that elopement is the mildest."
"Indeed? This is very flattering! Probably I am also said to be a
counterfeiter?"
"I am not jesting, Herr Count. While Colonel Barthelmy was my guest I
was able to prevent him from taking any aggressive steps toward you;
this is why you did not hear from him again after his last call on
you--"
"I certainly am greatly indebted to you," interrupted Count Vavel, with
visible irony.
"You owe me no thanks, Herr Count. When a woman tries to prevent a
quarrel between two men, she does so, believe me, out of pure self-love.
The emotions which electrify your nerves torment ours. I could not have
continued to live here had a tragic occurrence made the place memorable.
That is why I prevented an encounter between you and the colonel; so you
need not thank me. However, the evening before the regiment took its
departure the colonel said to me: 'I have kept my word to you, baroness;
but to-morrow I cease to be your guest. I shall take steps then to learn
if the mysterious lady at the Nameless Castle be Ange Barthelmy or some
one else.'"
At these words a deep flush crimsoned Count Vavel's face. "I should like
to know how he proposes to settle that question?" he said, in a voice
that trembled with suppressed rage.
"I will tell you. Just listen to the ridiculous plan which the man
betrayed in his fury. He is quartered in the neighboring village to the
edge of which you and a certain person drive every day. He is going to
rise, with several friends, along the road; and when he meets your
carriage, he is going to stop it, introduce himself, and demand if the
lady by your side be Mme. Ange Barthelmy."
Count Vavel clenched his hands and closed his lips tightly. After a
brief struggle he regained command of himself, and said quietly:
"I shall, of course, reply: 'On my word as a man of honor, this lady is
not Ange Barthelmy.'"
"But if that does not satisfy him? Suppose he should insist on seeing
the lady? Suppose he even attempts to lift the lady's veil?"
"Then he dies!" The count gave utterance to these words in a tone tha
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