CHAPTER II
“NOW YOU WILL HAVE TO JOIN US”
TEMPTING as the offer was which my strange companion made me, I could not bring myself to accept it without time for consideration, and my hesitation in replying irritated and seemed to anger her.
She thrust my hands away from her with petulant quickness.
“You are a man of strangely deliberate discretion, Count,” she said as she turned away to the end of the room and threw herself into her chair again, from which she regarded me with a glance half scornful, half entreating.
“If I do not accept at once, believe me it is from no lack of appreciation of the honour you offer me or the charm with which it is offered, but circumstances compel me to be deliberate.”
“Circumstances?” she cried, with a shrug of disdain and disappointment.
“I regret that I cannot explain them.”
I could not, without telling her the whole reason of my presence in Sofia; and that was of course impossible. My secret commission was from the British Government, and the intrigue which I had to try and defeat was designed to depose her Prince, and set on the throne in his place a woman who would be a mere tool in the hands of Russia.
I am half a Roumanian by birth, my father having married the Countess of Radova, and my childhood had been spent in the Balkan peninsula. It was on one of my visits to the estates in Radova that I had come across the scent of this newest Russian intrigue, and as I had already had close communications with the British Foreign Office and accepted one or two missions of a secret character, I had volunteered for this, believing that single-handed I could effect secretly much more than could be done by the ordinary machinery of diplomacy. The Balkan States were in a condition of ferment and unrest; the war between Bulgaria and Servia had ended not long previously; Russia was keenly bent upon rendering her influence impregnable; and as no other European Government would interfere, our Foreign Office was loath to take open measures.
At such a juncture my services were readily accepted, and I had arrived in Sofia a couple of weeks before, and was just forming my plans, when this startling incident had occurred.
I had stipulated for a perfectly free hand as to the course I should pursue, and the means I should adopt to secure my end—a concession that had been granted me with the one stipulation that if I failed or if trouble arose through my agency our Foreign Office would be at liberty to disown me.
It will thus be seen how strongly I was tempted to accept the offer which the Countess Bokara made me, and which I knew she was in a position to carry out. But still I hesitated, unwilling to commit myself definitely to either side prematurely, lest such open alliance with the one side should make me a mark for the hostility of the other.
My instincts, sympathies, English associations and wishes all prompted me to accept the offer and throw myself heart and soul into the cause of the Prince; but I had to walk by the cooler guidance of judgment, and it had before been in my thoughts rather to seek an alliance with the Russian party and find among their ranks the men and means for a counter intrigue to thwart theirs.
I resolved, therefore, not to pledge myself to this witching woman, whose strange personality wielded such fascinating influence.
Few as were the moments that sufficed for these reflections, they were too many for my companion’s patience.
“How came you here to-night so opportunely?” she asked, breaking the silence suddenly.
“You passed me on the other side of the Cathedral Square, and I then observed you were being followed. I followed in my turn, lest you should be in need of assistance.”
“There are not many men in Sofia who would have dared to interfere in such a cause. But for you I should be dead now,” she shuddered, “and the Prince would have had one friend the less—or may I not say, two friends?”
“The Prince will always have a friend in me,” I returned guardedly.
She made a movement of impatience.
“I want no general phrases.” Then after a pause and in a different tone, she added: “Tell me, what arguments are the strongest that I can use with you, my friend? You said just now you were seeking a career. Have you ambitions? If so, I can promise you a splendid fulfilment of them. Do you wish riches? They shall be yours! Have you a heart? I will find you as fair a bride as man’s eyes can rest upon. Have you judgment? Aye, have you anything—except a commitment to the other side—and I can prevail with you. Join us, and before three months are over your head you shall be the Prince’s right hand—and mine.” The subtle witchery of her tone in the last two words was indescribable.
But I would not let her prevail, though her words and manner were well-nigh dazzling enough to carry me out of myself. The magnetism of her mere presence was overpowering.
“You are not fair to me, Countess. A man cannot reason coldly in the presence of such charms as you exert,” I answered, stooping to flattery, though telling the truth.
She shook her head and tapped her foot on the ground.
“Say no, bluntly, if you will, but do not try to slip away with words of cheap and empty flattery. I am not appealing to you to join for my sake, gladly as I would welcome you, but for the sake of the Prince, for the cause of truth, for the honour and safety of Bulgaria. Stay——” as I was about to answer, “I have seen you act and I have read your character. I do not make mistakes. I know you are to be trusted. You have saved my life, at a greater risk than you may think, for you will be a marked man now; and I will do more than put my life in your hands—I will tell you everything. You will not reveal it—though, Heaven knows, betrayal is the religion of most men here,” she exclaimed bitterly.
“I would rather you told me none of your secrets,” I said, but she swept my protest aside with a wave of the hand.
“You wonder why you find me here in this house alone at night. You must wonder; I will tell you. It is my mother’s house—my own is across the city near the Palace—and to-night her own maid came to me with an urgent message that my mother had been stricken down suddenly and was dying, and that I must come at once. It was a lie, of course, though for the moment it blinded me. I hurried here on foot, too anxious even to wait for a carriage to be got ready, and when I arrived the place was empty. While I was wondering whether I had been betrayed, the men you saw—to whom keys of the place had been given—entered, and would assuredly have murdered me but for your arrival. That is how Russia plays her cards in Bulgaria.”
“How do you know they were Russian agents?”
“How do I know that when I am hungry I want to eat? Wearied, I need sleep? Bah! do you think I have no instincts, and do not know my enemies? How do I know their plans and plots?” She fired the questions at me with vindictive indignation and a smile of surprise that I should even ask such a thing. Then her expression changed to one of deep earnestness, her tone hard and bitter.
“I will tell you how you shall know it, too. They have tried every other means but this to separate me from my Prince. Threats at which I laughed; bribes to be anything I pleased, which I scorned; hints of his assassination, which I carried to him; everything—till only this was left; and now this,” and she touched her wound lightly. “And even this, thanks to your valour, Count, has now failed. And their object, you will ask? They have a plot to drive my Prince from Bulgaria, because he will not be their tool. You know he will not; all Europe knows it, and knows too that the only chance for Bulgaria’s real independence is that he shall remain on the throne here. And remain he shall, I swear, by the great God they all profess to worship, in spite of all their crafty intrigue and bloodthirsty plotting. And yet, mark you, the worst danger lies not with them, but with the fools and traitors in Bulgaria itself whom they delude or suborn. There is not a self-interest to which they do not appeal, from the ambition of the fool to the corruptness of the knave. And God knows, both knaves and fools are plentiful enough here.”
“And their scheme?” I asked, moved by her intense earnestness.
She looked at me sharply.
“Then you do wish to hear it?” she asked, referring to my former protest. “You shall. There is a woman—a seemingly innocent, soft-natured thing, all sweetness and grace, but a devil; with the beauty of an angel and the heart of a vampire—a devil.”
Her fury was instant, overwhelming, absorbing.
“Did they propose marrying her to your Prince?” I asked, making a shot.
She darted at me a swift glance that might have been winged with hate at the mere suggestion. Then her eyes changed, and she laughed and said softly:
“You are the man for us. Calm as a sword and as sharp as the point. Yes, they dared even that—but I was in the way. In another woman’s hands they thought he might have been won round. But rather than see him the husband of that fiend, Christina, I myself would have plunged a dagger into his heart—and they guessed this, I suppose, and changed the plan. She is the Princess of Orli, as probably you know—for I don’t suppose you are quite as unknowing as you seem—and apparently is all for Bulgaria and the Bulgarians. Like you, she is a Roumanian, and like you, if I read you right, she is driven from her country by the all-powerful Russian predominance—at least, that’s what she says. Isn’t that why you left?” she asked, with quick shrewdness.
“The Russian predominance there is undoubted,” I answered.
She liked the answer and laughed.
“Good! you are cautious, and I don’t blame you. For the lips that breathe out rashness breathe in danger, my friend. But now, will you join us? You can see the career that awaits such a man as yourself here—at the right hand of the Prince.”
“But if the Princess Christina is opposed to Russia, how does she threaten Bulgaria?”
“Aye, if?” and she laughed scornfully. “There is another complication. The woman has sold herself to the Russians. She is betrothed secretly to one of the worst of them all, a man of infinite vileness and treachery—the Duke Sergius. And the plot is that as soon as this Christina is on the throne, the precious pair are to be married, and Russia triumphs in despite of anything Europe may say to the contrary.”
“I see,” and so in truth I did; for in a moment the kernel of the whole movement was laid bare to me, as well as the objective of all my work in Bulgaria. I remained some moments buried in thought, and all the time my companion’s eyes were searching my face for a clue to my thoughts. “It is very Russian,” I said at length, equivocally; and at the words she made a quick gesture of impatience.
“You will not give me a sign,” she cried, and jumped to her feet impulsively. “But you will join us?” she asked. She came close to me as she waited for the answer, and when I did not answer, she added quickly, “Why do you hesitate?”
Before I could reply, we both heard a noise somewhere in the house.
“What can that be?” I asked. “You said there was no one in the house.”
“None, that I know;” and we both stood listening intently. “Those rascals may have left the place open and let in some of the thieves that infest the streets.”
“Those are no thieves’ footsteps,” I answered, as quick steps were heard approaching the room.
“It may be another attempt on me—but I have a brave defender now,” she said, under her breath.
I had a revolver with me and took it out of my pocket, glancing to see that the chambers were all loaded.
“You had better stand back at the end of the room there,” and I went towards the door.
At that moment it was opened quickly, and three men in uniform entered.
“Stand!” I called. “What do you want here?”
“I am an agent of the Government and hold an order for the arrest of the Countess Bokara,” answered the leader, coming to a sudden halt when he saw me in the way armed.
“Well, you cannot execute it now.”
“My orders are imperative, sir, and you will resist me at your peril.”
“I shall resist,” said I shortly. “Where’s your order?”
“I have it, that is enough,” he replied with equal curtness.
“Produce it!”
“That is not in my instructions.”
“Then I don’t believe you have it. Leave the house before there is any further trouble.”
“I must do my duty. Georgiew,” he called to one of the two men, who had kept close to the door in fear, but now stepped up to his leader’s side.
“Who has signed your order?” asked the Countess, interposing.
“One whose authority is sufficient for me.”
“But not for me,” she cried. I turned, and found to my surprise that she had come to my side, and was staring with fixed intensity into the man’s face. “Not for me,” she repeated.
“You must be prepared to accompany me, madame, nevertheless, and I trust you will come at once, and without causing trouble. We are three to one, sir, and fully armed; resistance will be useless,” he added to me.
“If you were thirty to one I would not give way unless you produced your authority,” I answered, my blood beginning to heat under his manner and tone.
“I ask you for the last time, madame, to come with me,” and, with a sign to the others, he made ready to attack me.
“Aye, for the last time,” said my companion, between her teeth, and before I could guess her intention, she gave a startling proof of her desperate resource and deadly recklessness.
With a suddenness that took me entirely by surprise, she snatched the revolver from me, and levelling it with quick aim, she fired two shots in rapid succession with deadly effect, for the two men standing near us fell dead at our feet, shot through the head. The third, who had kept near the door, with a coward’s prudence, took to his heels incontinently, and left us alone with the dead.
“Good God! what have you done?” I cried, aghast at her deed. “These men were soldiers.”
She laughed into my scared face.
“You don’t suppose death counts for much in this country. This is only spy carrion,” and with the utmost sang-froid she stooped and rifled the pockets of the dead leader, turning the body over for the purpose, and took from his pocket a paper which she held up for me to read. “I was sure of it.”
“What the bearer does is by my order and authority.
(Signed), M. KOLFORT, General.”
“General Kolfort is the implacable leader of the Russian party, and that document was my death warrant,” she said.
In a moment I saw my danger, and she read my thought instantly.
“Yes, you are committed, my friend; now you will have to join us,” and she smiled triumphantly in my face. “I am glad.”