The Complete Works of Frances Hodgson Burnett. Frances Hodgson Burnett

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СКАЧАТЬ pouring forth pours from human veins and beating human hearts. Men like your father must think, and plan, and feel that they must—must find a way. Even a woman feels it. Even a boy must. Stefan Loristan cannot be sitting quietly at home, knowing that Samavian hearts are being shot through and Samavian blood poured forth. He cannot think and say NOTHING!”

      Marco started in spite of himself. He felt as if his father had been struck in the face. How dare she say such words! Big as he was, suddenly he looked bigger, and the beautiful lady saw that he did.

      “He is my father,” he said slowly.

      She was a clever, beautiful person, and saw that she had made a great mistake.

      “You must forgive me,” she exclaimed. “I used the wrong words because I was excited. That is the way with women. You must see that I meant that I knew he was giving his heart and strength, his whole being, to Samavia, even though he must stay in London.”

      She started and turned her head to listen to the sound of some one using the latchkey and opening the front door. The some one came in with the heavy step of a man.

      “It is one of the lodgers,” she said. “I think it is the one who lives in the third floor sitting-room.”

      “Then you won’t be alone when I go,” said Marco. “I am glad some one has come. I will say good-morning. May I tell my father your name?”

      “Tell me that you are not angry with me for expressing myself so awkwardly,” she said.

      “You couldn’t have meant it. I know that,” Marco answered boyishly. “You couldn’t.”

      “No, I couldn’t,” she repeated, with the same emphasis on the words.

      She took a card from a silver case on the table and gave it to him.

      “Your father will remember my name,” she said. “I hope he will let me see him and tell him how you took care of me.”

      She shook his hand warmly and let him go. But just as he reached the door she spoke again.

      “Oh, may I ask you to do one thing more before you leave me?” she said suddenly. “I hope you won’t mind. Will you run upstairs into the drawing-room and bring me the purple book from the small table? I shall not mind being alone if I have something to read.”

      “A purple book? On a small table?” said Marco.

      “Between the two long windows,” she smiled back at him.

      The drawing-room of such houses as these is always to be reached by one short flight of stairs.

      Marco ran up lightly.

      XIV

MARCO DOES NOT ANSWER

      By the time he turned the corner of the stairs, the beautiful lady had risen from her seat in the back room and walked into the dining-room at the front. A heavily-built, dark-bearded man was standing inside the door as if waiting for her.

      “I could do nothing with him,” she said at once, in her soft voice, speaking quite prettily and gently, as if what she said was the most natural thing in the world. “I managed the little trick of the sprained foot really well, and got him into the house. He is an amiable boy with perfect manners, and I thought it might be easy to surprise him into saying more than he knew he was saying. You can generally do that with children and young things. But he either knows nothing or has been trained to hold his tongue. He’s not stupid, and he’s of a high spirit. I made a pathetic little scene about Samavia, because I saw he could be worked up. It did work him up. I tried him with the Lost Prince rumor; but, if there is truth in it, he does not or will not know. I tried to make him lose his temper and betray something in defending his father, whom he thinks a god, by the way. But I made a mistake. I saw that. It’s a pity. Boys can sometimes be made to tell anything.” She spoke very quickly under her breath. The man spoke quickly too.

      “Where is he?” he asked.

      “I sent him up to the drawing-room to look for a book. He will look for a few minutes. Listen. He’s an innocent boy. He sees me only as a gentle angel. Nothing will SHAKE him so much as to hear me tell him the truth suddenly. It will be such a shock to him that perhaps you can do something with him then. He may lose his hold on himself. He’s only a boy.”

      “You’re right,” said the bearded man. “And when he finds out he is not free to go, it may alarm him and we may get something worth while.”

      “If we could find out what is true, or what Loristan thinks is true, we should have a clue to work from,” she said.

      “We have not much time,” the man whispered. “We are ordered to Bosnia at once. Before midnight we must be on the way.”

      “Let us go into the other room. He is coming.”

      When Marco entered the room, the heavily-built man with the pointed dark beard was standing by the easy-chair.

      “I am sorry I could not find the book,” he apologized. “I looked on all the tables.”

      “I shall be obliged to go and search for it myself,” said the Lovely Person.

      She rose from her chair and stood up smiling. And at her first movement Marco saw that she was not disabled in the least.

      “Your foot!” he exclaimed. “It’s better?”

      “It wasn’t hurt,” she answered, in her softly pretty voice and with her softly pretty smile. “I only made you think so.”

      It was part of her plan to spare him nothing of shock in her sudden transformation. Marco felt his breath leave him for a moment.

      “I made you believe I was hurt because I wanted you to come into the house with me,” she added. “I wished to find out certain things I am sure you know.”

      “They were things about Samavia,” said the man. “Your father knows them, and you must know something of them at least. It is necessary that we should hear what you can tell us. We shall not allow you to leave the house until you have answered certain questions I shall ask you.”

      Then Marco began to understand. He had heard his father speak of political spies, men and women who were paid to trace the people that certain governments or political parties desired to have followed and observed. He knew it was their work to search out secrets, to disguise themselves and live among innocent people as if they were merely ordinary neighbors.

      They must be spies who were paid to follow his father because he was a Samavian and a patriot. He did not know that they had taken the house two months before, and had accomplished several things during their apparently innocent stay in it. They had discovered Loristan and had learned to know his outgoings and incomings, and also the outgoings and incomings of Lazarus, Marco, and The Rat. But they meant, if possible, to learn other things. If the boy could be startled and terrified into unconscious revelations, it might prove well worth their while to have played this bit of melodrama before they locked the front door behind them and hastily crossed the Channel, leaving their landlord to discover for himself that the house had been vacated.

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