Her Majesty's Minister Part 48

"Yes, he demanded an interview. We had not met for nearly two years, yet he approached me with a declaration of love upon his lips. I laughed at him, but presently he held me dumb by producing from his pocket the compromising letter. He began by pointing out how easily he could ruin me socially, and prove me to be a traitress. He made an end by offering to place the letter unreservedly in my hands on the day I became his wife."

"He had declared his love to you before?"

"Yes, two years ago. But I knew him too well, and hated him too thoroughly, to take a favourable view of his ridiculous declaration."

"And this man?" I asked. "Who is he?"

"He was once in the employ of my father, Prince Kinsky von Wchinitz, and was administrator of the estates at Wchinitz and Tettau, in Bohemia.

Immediately my husband died and the feudal estates of Schwazbourg pa.s.sed into my possession, as well as those of my late father, this man pressed his claim. He first endeavoured to pay court to me; then, on finding I was cold to his attentions, he became threatening, and I was compelled to discharge him. Afterwards he drifted away, became a chevalier d'industrie, and at last, because of my refusal to hear his repeated declarations of affection, he made a dastardly attempt upon my life."

"He tried to kill you?" I exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes," she responded. "Had it not been for the timely intervention of a stranger--a person whom I did not see--he would have murdered me."

"Through jealousy?"

"Yes, through jealousy."

"And this fellow's name?" I asked, my anger rising at the thought of a discharged employe thus holding Leonie in his power, and, despite the fact that he had made an attempt upon her life, badgering her to marry him. "Is there any reason why I should not know it?"

There was a brief silence. She hesitated to tell me, and not until I had pressed her several times to disclose to me his name would she answer.

"The man who is seeking to drive me to destruction and to suicide is,"

she replied reluctantly, "an adventurer of the worst type--a man who is seeking to make a wealthy marriage at the expense of a woman whom he holds in his power, and whom he can ruin at any moment if he chooses."

"His name? Tell me."

"His name is Count Rodolphe d'Egloffstein-Wolfsburg."

I held my breath, utterly amazed by this disclosure.

"The man known as Rodolphe Wolf?" I cried--"the adventurer who fell into the hands of the police at St. Petersburg, and served nine months'

imprisonment as a rogue and vagabond?"

"What! you know him?" she demanded in surprise. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"A friend!" I echoed. "No, not a friend by any means. An enemy, and a bitter one."

"Then he is mutually our enemy?" she declared.

"Most certainly," I answered, adding, "What you have just told me, Leonie, reveals to me the truth regarding several incidents which have been hitherto unaccountable. Was Wolf actually in your father's employ?"

"Yes, for years. He was the younger son of old Count Leopold d'Egloffstein-Wolfsburg, whose small estate joined that of Tettau, and, after a wild career in Vienna and Paris, returned home a ne'er-do-well.

My father, in order to give him another chance in life, gave him control of a portion of the estates, and, finding him shrewd and clever at management, ultimately made him administrator of the whole, which position he filled up to the time when, after my husband's death, I discharged him on account of dishonesty and of the constant annoyance to which I was subjected by him. When he left me he vowed that one day I should become his wife, and it seems that in order to gain that end he has been scheming ever since."

"He is a spy in the French secret service," I observed thoughtfully, for strange reflections were running through my mind at that instant.

"I have heard so," she answered. "But that is not actually proved, is it?"

"Absolutely."

"Is it possible that he himself stole the letter from your desk there?

Has he ever been here?"

"Never, to my knowledge. He would never dare to enter here," I replied.

"No, that letter was stolen by one of his accomplices."

"A woman?"

"Yes, I think it was a woman."

"A woman whom you love, or have loved, Gerald? Come now, be perfectly frank with me."

"You guess aright," I answered, remembering that as far as I was aware she knew nothing of the existence of Edith Austin.

A dark look crossed her features.

"Then if that woman knew the contents of the letter she had a motive of jealousy," argued the Princess.

"She may have had. At any rate I have suspicion that, acting under Wolf's instructions, she abstracted the letter and handed it to him without previous knowledge of what it contained."

"No, I scarcely think that. Wolf would tell her that I loved you and was her rival in your affections, in order to incense her against me.

What is her name?"

I kept silence for a moment, reflecting upon the wisdom of telling her the truth at that juncture. At last I resolved that, as our interests were mutual, there should be no secrets between us.

"She is English, and her name is Austin--Edith Austin."

"Edith Austin!" she cried in dismay. "And you love her?--you love _that woman_?"

"Why do you speak of her in that manner?" I demanded.

"Austin--Austin?" she repeated. "It is certainly not the first time I have heard that name. Certainly her reputation is not above suspicion.

And you actually love her, Gerald?" she added in a blank tone of reproach. "Is it really possible that you love her?"

"Why?"

"Because Bertini--who was once in the Austrian service, and is now a secret agent of the French--told me in Vienna not long ago that one of the most successful French agents in England was a young girl named Edith Austin. She must be the same. I know Bertini well, although he is not at all a desirable acquaintance. And you love this girl--you, in your responsible position at the Emba.s.sy? Is it not extremely dangerous?"

I admitted that it was, but expressed disinclination to discuss the matter further, feeling that the more we talked of it the deeper would be the pain I caused to the handsome and desperate woman before me.

"You told me just now that Wolf once made an attempt upon your life," I said presently. "These words of yours have given me a clue to an incident which has to me long been a mystery."

"How?"

"Listen, and I'll tell you. One day in late autumn two years ago I alighted at the little station of Montigny, on the line to Montargis, in order to ride through the forest of Fontainebleau to Bois-le-Roi, and return thence to Paris by rail. I am fond of the forest, and when I can s.n.a.t.c.h a day, sometimes go for a healthy spin through it, either riding, cycling, or on foot. Having lunched at the little inn at Marlotte, where my mare was stabled, I started off on the road which, as you know well, leads through the wild rocks of the Gorge aux Loups to the Carrefour de la Croix du Grand Maitre in the heart of the forest, and thence away to the town of Fontainebleau. The afternoon was gloomy and lowering, and darkness crept on much more quickly than I had antic.i.p.ated. It had rained earlier in the day, and the roads were wet and muddy, while the wind that had sprung up moaned dismally through the half-bare trees, rendering the ride anything but a cheerful one.

"By six o'clock it was already quite dark, and I was still in the centre of the forest, galloping along a narrow by-way which I knew would bring me out upon the main road to Paris. The mare's hoofs were falling softly upon the carpet of rain-sodden leaves when of a sudden I heard a woman's cry of distress in the darkness close to me. A man's voice sounded, speaking in German, and next instant there was the flash of a revolver and a loud report. The light gave me a clue, and, pulling up, I swung myself from my saddle and without hesitation rushed to the woman's a.s.sistance. I slipped my own revolver from my pocket and sprang upon the man who had fired, while at the same instant the woman wrested herself from the a.s.sa.s.sin's grasp. By means of the white shawl she wore about her head I saw her disappearing quickly through the undergrowth.