The Complete Detective Sgt. Elk Series (6 Novels in One Edition). Edgar Wallace

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СКАЧАТЬ — is she engaged to her young friend?” he asked quietly. “Believe me, it is not vulgar curiosity which prompts the question. I — I am — interested.”

      His voice was as composed as ever, but a slight pallor spread across his countenance. Lady Dinsmore averted her gaze hurriedly and thought with lightning rapidity.

      “I have not her confidence,” she replied at length in a low tone. “She is a wise young woman and keeps her own counsel.” She appeared to hesitate. “She dislikes you,” she added. “I am sorry to wound you, but it is no secret.” Count Poltavo nodded. “I know,” he said simply. “Will you be my very good friend and tell me why?”

      Lady Dinsmore smiled. “I will do better than that,” she said kindly. “I will be your very good friend and give you a chance to ask her why. Cord,” she bent forward and tapped the young man upon the shoulder’with her fan, “will you come over here and tell me what your chief means by permitting all this dreadful war-talk with Japan. Is it true that you Americans are going to fight those pleasant little men?”

      The count resigned his seat courteously, and took the vacant place beside the girl. A silence fell between them, which presently the man broke.

      “Miss Grayson,” he began gravely, “your aunt kindly gave me this opportunity to ask you a question. Have I your permission also?”

      The girl arched her brows at him. Her lip curled ever so slightly.

      “A question to which you and my Aunt Patricia could find no answer between you! It must be subtle indeed! How can I hope to succeed?”

      He ignored her sarcasm. “Because it concerns yourself, mademoiselle.”

      “Ah!” She drew herself up and regarded him with sparkling eyes. One small foot began to tap the floor ominously. Then she broke into a vexed little laugh.

      “I am no match for you with the foils, count. I admit it, freely. I should have learned by this time that you never say what you mean, or mean what you say.”

      “Forgive me, Miss Grayson, if I say that you mistake me utterly. I mean always what I say — most of all to you. But to say all that I mean. — To put into speech all that one hopes or dreams — or dares—” his voice dropped to a whisper—” to turn oneself inside out like an empty pocket to the gaze of the multitude — that is — imbecile.”

      He threw out his hands with an expressive gesture.

      “But to speak concretely — I have unhappily offended you, Miss Grayson. Something I have done —

      “Miss Grayson,” he began gravely, “your aunt kindly gave me this opportunity to ask you a question. Have I your permission also?”

      The girl arched her brows at him. Her lip curled ever so slightly.

      “A question to which you and my Aunt Patricia could find no answer between you! It must be subtle indeed! How can I hope to succeed?”

      He ignored her sarcasm. “Because it concerns yourself, mademoiselle.”

      “Ah!” She drew herself up and regarded him with sparkling eyes. One small foot began to tap the floor ominously. Then she broke into a vexed little laugh.

      “I am no match for you with the foils, count. I admit it, freely. I should have learned by this time that you never say what you mean, or mean what you say.”

      “Forgive me, Miss Grayson, if I say that you mistake me utterly. I mean always what I say — most of all to you. But to say all that I mean. — To put into speech all that one hopes or dreams — or dares—” his voice dropped to a whisper—” to turn oneself inside out like an empty pocket to the gaze of the multitude — that is — imbecile.” He threw out his hands with an expressive gesture.

      “But to speak concretely — I have unhappily offended you, Miss Grayson. Something I have done or left undone — or my unfortunate personality does not engage your interest? Is it not true?”

      There was no mistaking his almost passionate sincerity now, held in check by the man’s invincible composure.

      But the girl still held aloof, her blue eyes cool and watchful. For the moment her face, in its young hardness, bore a curious resemblance to her father’s.

      “Is that your question?” she demanded. The count bowed silently. His lips were pale.

      “Then I will tell you!” She spoke in a low voice surcharged with emotion. “I will give you candour for candour, and make an end of all this paltry masquerade.”

      “That,” he murmured, “is what I most desire.” Doris continued, heedless of the interruption.

      “It is true that I dislike you. I am glad to be able to say it to you, openly. And yet, perhaps, I should use another word. I dislike you and fear you in equal parts. I dislike your secrecy — something dark and hidden within you — and I fear your influence over my father.” Her voice faltered over the last word, and she paused.

      Lady Dinsmore’s cheerful tones broke across the silence.

      “Doris,” she charged, “you are preaching to the count. He is looking quite sulky and bored.”

      He shook his head at her, smiling.

      “My unfortunate face, it belies me. I was, in truth, deeply interested. Miss Grayson was speaking of her father.” He turned back to the girl. “You will continue the — how you say — arraignment?” he asked gravely. “I would know the worst. I, influence your father for evil — but how?”

      Doris looked at him sombrely.

      “I don’t know — exactly,” she admitted. “But you are somehow connected with the — the scheme — a terrible illegal scheme,” her voice was only just audible. “That I know to a certainty. Father spoke to me one day of you—”

      Count Poltavo started.

      “It was after he had decoded a telegram. He looked up and spoke of your brilliance and discretion. He said you had the mind of a Napoleon.”

      “It is true that I was able to do your father a service,” he replied slowly. “I did him another tonight.” He smiled with a certain mysticism.

      “In truth, it was what delayed me. But as for your — ah — conspiracy, Miss Grayson, believe me, I know little. That a — a committee exists, with a president—”

      “Baggin!” breathed the girl. Her eyes were wide with terror.

      “Ah!” His face was immovable, but a gleam in his eyes betrayed him.

      She turned upon him sharply. “You did not know?”

      He shook his head. “I know nothing — certainly. I wish I did!” he added simply.

      “That is true — you swear it?” She leaned toward him a little, her bosom heaving tumultuously.

      He bowed his head in assent.

      “If I could believe you!” СКАЧАТЬ