By Wit of Woman Part 56

Then a door opened in the hall.

"Christabel, Christabel!" It was Gareth's voice, sweet and glad.

"Go to her, please, I--I cannot for the moment."

He went at once and did what was of course the best thing to do--he brought her to me.

"The Duke wishes to see Gustav alone," he said. A glance at his face told me my plan had succeeded.

Gareth caught my arm nervously. "I heard angry voices in one of the rooms, Christabel--my father's and Kar--Gustav's. What does it mean?"

"All will be well now that you have seen the Duke, dearest. Stay here a minute until I come for you."

I believed it now and felt very happy as I kissed her and she kissed me in response.

"I owe it you, Christabel," she whispered. "I will wait."

I went out with the General and closed the door upon her.

"You must do all that may have to be done now," I said, weakly. "I have finished, and can do no more. Count Gustav is there with Colonel Katona and Count Karl. Will you fetch him?" and I pointed to the room from which the sounds of voices loud in anger were to be heard.

But even as I spoke, the door was flung open violently, and Colonel Katona and Gustav came out.

"No, by G.o.d, no, you are too great a villain," cried the Colonel fiercely, and then seeing who was with me, he stopped abruptly.

In the pause I glanced through into the room and saw Karl staring after the other two.

Our eyes met, and he flung up his hands with a gesture of consternation and despair.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE COLONEL'S SECRET

Instantly I thought of Gareth and raised my hand, hoping to still the Colonel's angry, strident tone lest it should reach her.

"He is a villain," he repeated. "I care not now who hears me say it.

He lured her from me, planned to make me do murder, and now would have me join in dishonouring my child. You must hear this, Miss von Dreschler, for you know much--and shall know the rest."

"For Gareth's sake, Colonel, she is in that room and may hear," I protested.

"Let her come and let her decide this," said Gustav.

"No. This is for me. I will tell all. I have kept my secret long enough--for your sake, as you know--and will keep it no longer. You came here," he said, turning to me, "to clear your father's memory of the charge brought against him. I can prove it false, and will. He was charged with having murdered the young Count Stephen. It was a lie. This scoundrel here knows it was a lie. Ask him if he dare deny that."

There was no need to ask the question; Count Gustav's face gave the answer, clear and unmistakable.

"You will ruin everything, Colonel Katona," he said. "Not me only, but the Duke, your master, and the great cause--everything."

"To h.e.l.l with any cause which would sacrifice my child's honour. I will tell the Duke to his face," was the hot reply, very fiercely spoken.

"I am here ready to listen, Colonel Katona."

We all started and turned to find the Duke himself had come out.

"What is this lie which threatens ruin to everything, sir?" he asked very sternly, after a pause.

Colonel Katona drew himself up.

"It is right that I should tell it to you. It was for you and your family that the lie was planned; that you might have the Throne when the time came; and it was continued that this man--your son--might succeed you. Your son, who has rewarded me for my fidelity to your house by stealing my child. It was for you and yours that I consented to dishonour my friend--this lady's father; and have kept the secret inviolate through years of remorse and sorrow."

"Enough of yourself," said the Duke, with a contemptuous wave of the hand. "Speak plainly."

"The scheme has failed, and through this villain's dastardly conduct.

The man whom Colonel von Dreschler was accused of having murdered, and whose death would have cleared the way for you and yours to the Throne--Count Stephen--is living, a close prisoner in my house."

"Thank G.o.d for that!" I cried, fervently, understanding all now.

Then a gasp of pain, or rage, or fear, or of all three, escaped the Duke's pallid lips. He staggered so that his Excellency put out his hand to help him.

"Is this true?" fell in a whisper from the Duke, his eyes on his son's face, now as white and tense as his own.

There was no answer, and in the silence, I heard the door behind me opened softly, and Gareth came out.

"Ah!" The soft e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, born partly of gladness at the sight of Gustav and her father, and partly of fear at the wrought looks of both, drew all eyes upon her. The silence seemed to deepen suddenly; as though a common instinct of mercy inspired all to attempt to keep what was pa.s.sing from her knowledge.

A look of bewilderment came over her face as she gazed from one to the other; tender but questioning for the Duke; half fearful anxiety for her father; and infinite love and yearning for her husband. She glanced at him last; but her first word was for him, and it was toward him she moved, murmuring his name and stretching out her hands.

Her father drew his breath quickly, with a sound between a gasp and a sigh; and I thought he was going to step between them, but the Duke glanced at him and raised his hand.

"She is his," he said, his tone no more than a whisper, but distinct to all of us.

The Colonel drew back a pace and put his hand to his forehead.

Gareth pa.s.sed him. She had no eyes for any but her husband in that moment.

I waited with fear-wrought anxiety to see how he would greet her, for his face had given no sign which we could read.

But she had no fear for him as she had no thought of us. Her faith in him was as staunch and patent as the love which lighted her face and sparkled in her clear s.h.i.+ning eyes. Our presence gave her no embarra.s.sment; I believe that we were all forgotten in the absorbing delight of that one supreme moment.

He played the man for once. As she placed her hands in his with just a simple--"I am so glad," he took them, and bending down kissed her on the lips before us all.

But this was more than her father could bear. With an angry "Gareth,"

he turned to part them.

Scared by his stern look and tone, she shrank back with a little piteous cry: "Father, he is my husband;" as if indeed she would defend him.