The Yellow Crayon Part 49
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"Your coffee is almost cold," she said, "but the Prince has found some brandy of wonderful age, somewhere in the last century, I believe."
Mr. Sabin glanced towards Lucille. She appeared engrossed in her conversation, and had not noticed his approach. Lady Carey shrugged.
"You have only a few minutes," she said, "before that dreadful person comes and frowns us all out. I have kept you a chair."
Mr. Sabin sat down. Lady Carey interposed herself between him and the small table at which Lucille was sitting.
"Have they discovered anything?" she asked.
"Nothing!" Mr. Sabin answered.
She played with her fan for a moment. Then she looked him steadily in the face.
"My friend?"
He glanced towards her.
"Lady Carey!"
"Why are you so obstinate?" she exclaimed in a low, pa.s.sionate whisper.
"I want to be your friend, and I could be very useful to you. Yet you keep me always at arm's length. You are making a mistake. Indeed you are. I suppose you do not trust me. Yet reflect. Have I ever told you anything that was not true? Have I ever tried to deceive you? I don't pretend to be a paragon of the virtues. I live my life to please myself.
I admit it. Why not? It is simply applying the same sort of philosophy to my life as you have applied to yours. My enemies can find plenty to say about me--but never that I have been false to a friend. Why do you keep me always at arm's length, as though I were one of those who wished you evil?"
"Lady Carey," Mr. Sabin said, "I will not affect to misunderstand you, and I am flattered that you should consider my good will of any importance. But you are the friend of the Prince of Saxe Leinitzer. You are one of those even now who are working actively against me. I am not blaming you, but we are on opposite sides."
Lady Carey looked for a moment across at the Prince, and her eyes were full of venom.
"If you knew," she murmured, "how I loathe that man. Friends! That is all long since past. Nothing would give me so much pleasure as never to see his face again."
"Nevertheless," Mr. Sabin reminded her, "whatever your private feelings may be, he has claims upon you which you cannot resist."
"There is one thing in the world," she said in a low tone, "for which I would risk even the abnegation of those claims."
"You would perjure your honour?"
"Yes--if it came to that."
Mr. Sabin moved uneasily in his chair. The woman was in earnest. She offered him an invaluable alliance; she could show him the way to hold his own against even the inimical combination by which he was surrounded. If only he could compromise. But her eyes were seeking his eagerly, even fiercely.
"You doubt me still," she whispered. "And I thought that you had genius.
Listen, I will prove myself. The Prince has one of his foolish pa.s.sions for Lucille. You know that. So far she has shown herself able to resist his fascinations. He is trying other means. Lucille is in danger!
Duson!--but after all, I was never really in danger, except the time when I carried the despatches for the colonel and rode straight into a Boer ambush."
Mr. Sabin saw nothing, but he did not move a muscle of his face. A moment later they heard the Prince's voice from behind them.
"I am very sorry," he said, "to interrupt these interesting reminiscences, but you see that every one is going. Lucille is already in the cloak-room."
Lady Carey rose at once, but the glance she threw at the Prince was a singularly malicious one. They walked down the carpeted way together, and Lady Carey left them without a word. In the vestibule Mr. Sabin and Reginald Brott came face to face.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
The greeting between the two men was cold, and the Prince almost immediately stepped between them. Nevertheless, Brott seemed to have a fancy to talk with Mr. Sabin.
"I was at Camperdown House yesterday," he remarked. "Her Ladys.h.i.+p was regretting that she saw you so seldom."
"I have been a little remiss," Mr. Sabin answered. "I hope to lunch there to-morrow."
"You have seen the evening paper, Brott?" the Prince asked.
"I saw the early editions," Brott answered. "Is there anything fresh?"
The Prince dropped his voice a little. He drew Brott on one side.
"The Westminster declared that you had left for Windsor by an early train this afternoon, and gives a list of your Cabinet. The Pall Mall, on the other hand, declares that Letheringham will a.s.suredly be sent for to-morrow."
Brott shrugged his shoulders.
"There are bound to be a crop of such reports at a time like this," he remarked.
The Prince dropped his voice almost to a whisper.
"Brott," he said, "there is something which I have had it in my mind to say to you for the last few days. I am not perhaps a great politician, but, like many outsiders, I see perhaps a good deal of the game. I know fairly well what the feeling is in Vienna and Berlin. I can give you a word of advice."
"You are very kind, Prince," Brott remarked, looking uneasily over his shoulder. "But--"
"It is concerning Brand. There is no man more despised and disliked abroad, not only because he is a Jew and ill-bred, but because of his known sympathy with some of these anarchists who are perfect firebrands in Europe."
"I am exceedingly obliged to you," Brott answered hurriedly. "I am afraid, however, that you antic.i.p.ate matters a good deal. I have not yet been asked to form a Cabinet. It is doubtful whether I ever shall. And, beyond that, it is also doubtful whether even if I am asked I shall accept."
"I must confess," the Prince said, "that you puzzle me. Every one says that the Premiers.h.i.+p of the country is within your reach. It is surely the Mecca of all politicians."
"There are complications," Brott muttered. "You--"
He stopped short and moved towards the door. Lucille, unusually pale and grave, had just issued from the ladies' ante-room, and joined Lady Carey, who was talking to Mr. Sabin. She touched the latter lightly on the arm.
"Help us to escape," she said quickly. "I am weary of my task. Can we get away without their seeing us?"
Mr. Sabin offered his arm. They pa.s.sed along the broad way, and as they were almost the last to leave the place, their carriage was easily found. The Prince and Mr. Brott appeared only in time to see Mr. Sabin turning away, hat in hand, from the curb-stone. Brott's face darkened.
"Prince," he said, "who is that man?"
The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
"A man," he said, "who has more than once nearly ruined your country.
His life has been a splendid failure. He would have given India to the Russians, but they mistrusted him and trifled away their chance. Once since then he nearly sold this country to Germany; it was a trifle only which intervened. He has been all his life devoted to one cause."
"And that?" Brott asked.
The Yellow Crayon Part 49
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The Yellow Crayon Part 49 summary
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