Tales of Mystery & Suspense: 25+ Thrillers in One Edition. E. Phillips Oppenheim

You shall know the truth, even though you betray me. I am no man of Selingman’s. I have taken his paltry money—it went last night to a hospital. I am for England—God knows it!—the England of any government, England, however misguided or mistaken. I want to do the work for her that’s easiest and that comes to me. I am on Selingman’s roll. What do you think he’ll get from me? Nothing that isn’t false, no information that won’t mislead him, no facts save those I shall distort until they may seem so near the truth that he will build and count upon them. Every minute of my time will be spent to foil his schemes. They don’t believe me in Whitehall, or Selingman would be at Bow Street to-morrow morning. That’s why I am going my own way. Tell him, if you will. There is only one thing strong enough to bring me here, to risk everything, and that’s my love for you.”

      She was in his arms, sobbing and crying, and yet laughing. She clutched at him, drew down his face and covered his lips with kisses.

      “Oh! I am so thankful,” she cried, “so thankful! Francis, I ached—my heart ached to have you sit there and talk as you did. Now I know that you are the man I thought you were. Francis, we will work together.”

      “You mean it?”

      “I do, England was my mother’s country, England shall be my husband’s country. I will tell you many things that should help. From now my work shall be for you. If they find me out, well, I will pay the price. You shall run your risk, Francis, for your country, and I must take mine; but at least we’ll keep our honour and our conscience and our love. Oh, this is a better parting, dear! This is a better good night!”

      CHAPTER XXVI

       Table of Contents

      Mrs. Benedek was the first to notice the transformation which had certainly taken place in Norgate’s appearance. She came and sat by his side upon the cushioned fender.

      “What a metamorphosis!” she exclaimed. “Why, you look as though Providence had been showering countless benefits upon you.”

      There were several people lounging around, and Mrs. Benedek’s remark certainly had point.

      “You look like Monty, when he’s had a winning week,” one of them observed.

      “It is something more than gross lucre,” a young man declared, who had just strolled up. “I believe that it is a good fat appointment. Rome, perhaps, where every one of you fellows wants to get to, nowadays.”

      “Or perhaps,” the Prince intervened, with a little bow, “Mrs. Benedek has promised to dine with you? She is generally responsible for the gloom or happiness of us poor males in this room.”

      Norgate smiled.

      “None of these wonderful things have happened—and yet, something perhaps more wonderful,” he announced. “I am engaged to be married.”

      There was a mingled chorus of exclamations and congratulations. Selingman, who had been standing on the outskirts of the group, drew a little nearer. His face wore a somewhat puzzled expression.

      “And the lady?” he enquired. “May we not know the lady’s name? That is surely important?”

      “It is the Baroness von Haase,” Norgate replied. “You probably know her by name and repute, at least, Mr. Selingman. She is an Austrian, but she is often at Berlin.”

      Selingman stretched out his great hand. For some reason or other, the announcement seemed to have given him real pleasure.

      “Know her? My dear young friend, while I may not claim the privilege of intimate friendship with her, the Baroness is a young lady of the greatest distinction and repute in Berlin. I congratulate you. I congratulate you most heartily. The anger of our young princeling is no longer to be wondered at. I cannot tell you how thoroughly interesting this news is to me.”

      “You are very good indeed, I am sure, all of you,” Norgate declared, answering the general murmur of kindly words. “The Baroness doesn’t play bridge, but I’d like to bring her in one afternoon, if I may.”

      “I have had the honour of meeting the Baroness von Haase several times,” Prince Lenemaur said. “It will give me the utmost pleasure to renew my acquaintance with her. These alliances are most pleasing. Since I have taken up my residence in this country, I regard them with the utmost favour. They do much to cement the good feeling between Germany, Austria, and England, which is so desirable.”

      “English people,” Mrs. Benedek remarked, “will at least have the opportunity of judging Austrian women from the proper standpoint. Anna is one of the most accomplished and beautiful women in either Vienna or Berlin. I hope so much that she will not have forgotten me altogether.”

      They all drifted presently back to the bridge tables. Norgate, however, excused himself. He had some letters to write, he declared, and presently he withdrew to the little drawing-room. In about a quarter of an hour, as he had expected, the door opened, and Selingman entered. He crossed the room at once to where Norgate was writing and laid his hand upon his shoulder.

      “Young man,” he said, “I wish to talk with you. Bring your chair around. Sit there so that the light falls upon your face. So! Now let me see. Where does that door lead to?”

      “Into the secretary’s room, but it is locked,” Norgate told him.

      “So! And the outer one I myself have carefully closed. We talk here, then, in private. This is great news which you have brought this afternoon.”

      “It is naturally of some interest to me,” Norgate assented, “but I scarcely see—”

      “It is of immense interest, also, to me,” Selingman interrupted. “It may be that you do not know this at present. It may be that I anticipate, but if so, no matter. Between you and your fiancee there will naturally be no secrets. You are perhaps already aware that she holds a high position amongst those who are working for the power and development and expansion of our great empire?”

      “I have gathered something of the sort,” Norgate admitted. “I know, of course, that she is a personal favourite of the Emperor’s, and persona grata at the Court of Berlin.”

      “You have no scruple, then, about marrying a woman who belongs to a certain clique, a certain school of diplomacy which you might, from a superficial point of view, consider inimical to your country’s interests?”

      “I have no scruple at all in marrying the Baroness von Haase,” Norgate replied firmly. “As for the rest, you and I have discussed fully the matter of the political relations between our countries. I have shown you practically have I not, what my own views are?”

      “That is true, my young friend,” Selingman confessed. “We have spoken together, man to man, heart to heart. I have tried to show you that even though we should stand with sword outstretched across the seas, yet in the hearts of our people there dwells a real affection, real good-will towards your country. I think that I have convinced you. I have come, indeed, to have a certain amount of confidence in you. That I have already proved. But your news to-day alters much. There are grades of that society which you have joined, rings within rings, as you may well imagine. I see the prospect before me now of making much greater and more valuable use of you. It was your brain, and a certain impatience with the political conduct of your country, which brought you over to our side. Why should not that become an alliance—an absolute alliance? Your interests are drawn into ours. You have now a real and great reason for throwing in your lot with us. Let me look at you. Let me think whether I may not venture upon a great gamble.”

      Norgate did not flinch. He appeared simply a little puzzled. Selingman’s blue, steel-like eyes seemed striving to reach the back of his brain.

      “All the things that we accomplish in my country,” the latter continued, “we do by method and order. We do them scientifically. We reach out into the future. So far as we can, we foresee