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Coin Of Edward VII

<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> <h3>AN AWKWARD INTERVIEW</h3> The discovery of the coin perplexed Giles. It was certainly the trinket attached to the bangle which he had given Anne. And here he found it in the grounds of the Priory. This would argue that she was in the neighborhood, in the house it might be. She had never been to the Priory when living at The Elms, certainly not after the New Year, when she first became possessed of the coin. He decided, therefore, that at some late period—within the last few days—she had been in the park, and there had lost the coin. It would, indeed, be strange if this trifling present which he had made her should be the means of tracing her to her hiding-place. And that hiding-place was the Priory. Giles felt sure of this. If she was in the neighborhood and walking about openly, she would be discovered and arrested. Therefore she must be concealed in the house. She had gone off with Walter Franklin, and here she was under the wing of his brother George. The case grew more mysterious and perplexing as time went on. Giles did not know which way to turn, or what advantage to reap from this discovery. Certainly, if he could get into the Priory and search[Pg 149] the house, he might discover Anne. Or, it might be, that if he confided in Franklin and told him of his love for Anne, the man might tell the truth and let him have an interview. But the matter took some thinking out. He decided to let it remain in abeyance at present. After kissing the coin—had it not been Anne's?—he slipped it into his waistcoat-pocket and returned home. Here a surprise, and not a very agreeable one, awaited him. He reached his house just in time to dress for dinner, and found a letter, which had been delivered by hand. It was from Olga Karacsay, and announced that she and her mother were stopping at the village inn. She asked Giles to come over that evening, as she wished to introduce him to the elder Princess. Ware was vexed that this inopportune visit should have taken place at the moment. He did not wish to be introduced to Olga's mother, and had more to do than to chatter French to a foreign lady. However, being naturally a most polite young gentleman, he could not refuse the request, and after dinner proceeded to the village. Morris, the landlord of "The Merry Dancer"—which was the name of the inn—was a burly man, and usually extremely self-important. On this night he excelled himself, and looked as swollen as the frog in the fable. That two Princesses should stay in his house was an honor which overwhelmed him. To be sure, they were foreigners, which made a difference; still, they had titles, and plenty of money, and for all Morris knew—as he observed to his flustered wife—might be exiled sovereigns. Morris received Giles in his best clothes, and bowed himself to the ground. "Yes, Mr. Ware, their Highnesses are within—on the first floor, Mr. Ware, having engaged a salon and two bedrooms."[Pg 150] "I didn't know you had a salon, Morris!" said Giles, his eyes twinkling. "For the time being I call it such," replied the landlord grandly. "My daughter is a French scholar, Mr. Ware, and called the sitting-room by that name. Me and Mrs. Morris and Henrietta Morris wish to make their Highnesses feel at home. Allow me to conduct you, sir, to the salon of their Highnesses. The garkong is engaged with the dejune, along with the femmie de chambers, who also waits." "You are quite a French scholar, Morris." "Henrietta Morris, my daughter—or I should say, mon filly—has instructed me in the languidge, sir. This way to the salon, sir," and Morris marshalled the way with the air of a courtier of Louis XIV. Giles entered the sitting-room, which was pretty and quaint but extremely unpretentious, bubbling over with laughter. Olga came forward, and catching sight of his face, laughed also as she shook hands with him. "I see you know the jest," she said. "Morris informed me of it as soon as I entered his door. Why have you come down to this dull place, Princess?" "Ah, no"—she made a pretty gesture of annoyance—"you must to-night call me Olga——" "I should not think of taking such a liberty," said Giles quickly. Olga pouted. "Then, Mademoiselle Olga," said she, "my mother you must call the Princess Karacsay. Will you allow me, Mr. Ware, to present you to my mother?" She led the young man forward, and he found himself bowing to a stout lady, who at one time must have been beautiful, but in whom age had destroyed a great amount[Pg 151] of her good looks. She was darker than her daughter, and had a languid, indolent air, which seemed to account for her stoutness. Evidently she never took exercise. Her face was still beautiful, and she had the most glorious pair of dark eyes. Her hair was silvery, and contrasted strangely with her swart face. One would have thought that she had African blood in her. She wore a yellow dress trimmed with black lace, and many jewels twinkled on her neck and arms and in her hair. Her tastes, like her appearance, were evidently barbaric. In this cold, misty island she looked like some gorgeous tropical bird astray. "I am glad to see you, Mr. Ware," she said in soft, languid tones, yet with a kind of rough burr; "my daughter has often talked of you." Her English was very good, and there was little trace of a foreign accent. Yet the occasional lisp and the frequent roughness added a piquancy to her tones. Even at her age—and she was considerably over fifty—she was undeniably a fascinating woman: in her youth she must have been a goddess both for looks and charm. Olga was regal and charming, but her mother excelled her. Giles found himself becoming quite enchanted with this Cleopatra of the West. "You have been long in England, Princess?" he asked. "But a week. I came to see Olga. She would have me come, although I dislike travelling. But I am fond of Olga." "It is more than my father is," said Olga, with a shrug; "he would not come. I suppose he thinks that I have disgraced him." "My dear child," reproved her mother, "you know what your father's opinion is about this wild life you lead." "A very hard-working life," retorted her daughter;[Pg 152] "singing is not easy. For the rest, I assure you I am respectable." "It is not the life for a Karacsay, my dear. If you would only come back to Vienna and marry the man your father——" "I choose for myself when I marry," flashed out Olga, with a glance at the uncomfortable Giles. "Count Taroc can take another wife." The Princess, seeing that Giles found this conversation somewhat trying, refrained from further remark. She shrugged her ample shoulders, and sipped her coffee, which she complained was bad. "You do not know how to make coffee here," she said, unfurling a fan, "and it is cold, this England of yours." "Princess, to-night is warm!" expostulated Ware. "Nevertheless I have had a fire made up," she answered, pointing with her fan to the end of the room; "the landlord was so surprised." "He no doubt considered it to be an eccentricity of Her Highness," said Olga, with a laugh; "a cigarette, mother?" The Princess took one languidly, and moved her chair closer to the fire. The night—to Giles—was quite hot, and he could scarcely bear the stifling heat of the room. Windows and doors were closed, and the fire flamed up fiercely. Also some pastiles had been burnt by Olga, and added a heavy, sensuous scent to the atmosphere. Ware could not help comparing the room to the Venusberg, and the women to the sirens of that unholy haunt. Which of the two was Venus he did not take upon himself to decide. "I am used to the tropics," explained the Princess, puffing blue clouds of smoke. "I come from Jamaica;[Pg 153] but I have been many years in Vienna, and in that cold Hungary," she shivered. "Ah, now I see, Princess, why you speak English so well," said Giles, and he might also have added that he now guessed why she was so Eastern in appearance and so barbaric in her taste for crude, vivid colors. She had negro blood in her veins he decided, and Olga also. This would account for the fierce temperament of the latter. "I left Jamaica when I was twenty-two," explained the Princess, while her daughter frowned. For some reason Olga did not seem to approve of these confidences. "Prince Karacsay was travelling there. He came to my father's plantation, and there he married me. I am sorry I did not marry someone in Jamaica," she finished lazily. "My dear mother," broke in her daughter petulantly, "you have always been happy in Vienna and at the Castle." "At the castle, yes. It was so quiet there. But Vienna, ach! It is too gay, too troublesome." "You don't like noise and excitement, Princess?" She shook her imperial head with the gesture of an angry queen. "I like nothing but rest. To be in a hammock with a cigarette and to hear the wind bend the palms, the surf break on the shores. It is my heaven. But in Hungary—no palms, no surf. Ach!" She made a face. "You are different to Mademoiselle Olga here," said Ware, smiling. "Quite different," cried Olga, with a gay laugh. "But I am like my father. He is a bold hunter and rider. Ah, if I had only been born a man! I love the saddle and the gun. No wonder I got away from the dull Society life of Vienna, where women are slaves." "I like being a slave, if rest is slavery," murmured her mother.[Pg 154] "Would not your father let you ride and shoot, Mademoiselle Olga?" "Ah yes, in a measure. But he is an Austrian of the old school. He does not believe in a woman being independent. My mother, who is obedient and good, is the wife he loves." "The Prince has been very kind to me. He does not trouble me." "He wouldn't let the air blow too roughly on you, mother," said Olga, with a scornful laugh. "He is a descendant of those Magyars who had Circassian slaves, and adores them as playthings. I am different." "You are terribly farouche, Olga," sighed the elder woman. "Your father has forgiven you, but he is still annoyed. I had the greatest difficulty in getting his permission to come over here." "He doubtless thinks you will be able to bring me back to marry Count Taroc," replied Olga composedly, "but I stay." She looked at Giles again, as if he were the reason she thus decided. To change the conversation he stood up. "I fear I fatigue you ladies," he said, looking very straight and handsome. "You will wish to retire." "Certainly I retire," said the Princess. "But my daughter——" "I shall stop and talk with Mr. Ware." "Olga!" murmured her mother, rather shocked. "I fear I have to go," said Giles uneasily. "No. You must stop. I have to talk to you about Anne." "Who is this Anne?" asked the Princess, rising lazily. "No one you know, mother. A friend of Mr. Ware's. Now you must retire, and Katinka shall make you comfortable."[Pg 155] "You will not be long, Olga? If your father knew—" "My father will not know," broke in her daughter, leading the elder woman to the door. "You will not tell him. Besides," (she shrugged), "we women are free in England. What would shock my father is good form in this delightful country." The Princess murmured something to Giles in a sleepy tone, and lounged out of the room bulky but graceful. When she departed and the door was closed, Olga threw open the windows. "Pah!" she said, throwing the pastiles out of doors, "I cannot breathe in this atmosphere. And you, Mr. Ware?" "I prefer untainted airs," he replied, accepting a cigarette. "The airs of the moors and of the mountains," she exclaimed, drawing herself up and looking like a huntress in her free grace. "I also. I love wide spaces and chill winds. If we were in the Carpathians, you and I, how savage our life would be!" "An alluring picture, Princess." "I am not Princess at present. I am Olga!" "Mademoiselle Olga," he corrected. "And what about Anne?" She appeared annoyed by his persistence. "You think of nothing but that woman," she cried impetuously. "Your friend, mademoiselle." "Ach! How stiffly you stay that! My friend! Oh, yes. I would do much for Anne, but why should I do all?" "I do not understand, mademoiselle." With a strong effort she composed herself, and looked at him smiling. "Is it so very difficult to understand?" she asked softly. "Very difficult," replied Ware stolidly.[Pg 156] "None so blind as those who won't see," muttered Olga savagely. "Quite so, mademoiselle." He rose to go. "Will you permit me to retire?" "No! I have much to say to you. Please sit down." "If you will talk about Anne," he replied, still standing. "From what you said at our first interview, she evidently knows something of the Scarlet Cross, and——" "I don't know what she does know. She was always careful." "I thought she spoke freely to you." "Oh, as a woman always does speak to one of her own sex. With reservations, Mr. Ware. Still, I could tell you something likely to throw some light on the mystery." "If you only would." "It would not lead you to her hiding-place." "What if I knew it already, mademoiselle?" She stood before him, her hands clenched, her breathing coming and going in quick, short gasps. "You can't know that." "But you do," he said suddenly. "I may, or I may not," she replied quickly; "and if you know, why not seek her out?" "I intend to try." "To try! Then you are not sure where she is?" said Olga eagerly. "Before I answer that, mademoiselle, I must know if you are my friend or Anne's—enemy," and he looked at her straightly. "You have put the matter—the position in the right way. I am your friend and Anne's—no, I am not her enemy. But I won't give her to you. No, I won't. You must guess that I——" "Mademoiselle," he interrupted quickly, "spare yourself[Pg 157] and me unnecessary humiliation. You know that I love Anne, that I love no one but her. I would give my life to find her to prove her innocence." "Even your life will not bring her to you or save her from the law. Giles"—she held out her arms—"I love you." "The heat of the room is too much for you. I will go." "No!" She flung herself between him and the door. "Since I have said so much, I must say all. Listen! I have been making inquiries. I know more about the Scarlet Cross and Anne's connection with it than you think. Her fate is in my hands. I can prove her innocence." "And you will—you will!" "On condition that you give her up." "I refuse to give her up," he cried angrily. "Then she will be punished for a crime she did not commit." "You know that she is innocent." "I can prove it, and I shall do so. You know my price." "Olga, do not speak like this. I would do much to save Anne——" "And you refuse to save her," she replied scornfully. "I refuse to give her up!" "Then I shall do so—to the police. I know where she is." "You do—that is why you are down here." "I did not come here for that, but to see you. To make my terms. I love you, and if you will give her up, I shall save her——" "I can save her in spite of you," said Giles, walking hastily in the door. "Your presence here confirms a fancy that I had. I can guess where Anne is, and I'll save her."[Pg 158] "You will bring her to the light of day and she will be arrested. I alone can save her." "You will. Oh, Olga, be your better self, and——" "You know my price," she said between her teeth. "I can't pay it—I can't." "Then you must be content to see her ruined." "You are a devil!" "And you are most polite. No; I am a woman who loves you, and who is determined to have you at any cost." "Can you really save Anne?" "I can." "Will you give me time to think?" A flash of joy crossed her face. "Then I am not so indifferent to you as you would have me suppose," she said softly. "You are not so—no, no! I can't say it! Give me time! give me time!" He opened the door. "Wait, wait!" she said, and closed it again. "I will give you two days. Then I return to London. If I have your promise, Anne shall be set free from this accusation. If you tamper in the meantime with her—for you may know where she is—I'll have her arrested at once." "I will do nothing," he said in muffled tones. "Swear! swear!" She placed her hands on his shoulders. Giles stepped back to free himself. "I will swear nothing," he said in icy tones. "I take my two days." So saying he opened the door, but not quickly enough to prevent her kissing him. "You are mine! you are mine!" she exclaimed exultingly. "Let Anne have her liberty, her good name. I have you. You are mine!—mine!" "On conditions," said Giles cruelly, and went away quickly.[Pg 159] <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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