FullReads

“I turned into the Ringstrasse, still filled with her presence, and tortured by the thought of the conditions that prevented my following her, called a cab, and drove to our minister’s. Mr. Motley then held the portfolio; my passport had expired, and, as I was entering Germany, needed renewing. The attache agreed to the necessity, stamped it, and brought it back to me with the ink still wet.

“‘His excellency,’ said he, ‘advises extreme caution on your part while here. Be careful of your associates, and keep out of suspicious company. Vienna is full of spies watching escaped Polish refugees. Your name’–reading it carefully–‘is apt to excite remark. We are powerless to help in these cases. Only last week an American who befriended a man in the street was arrested on the charge of giving aid and comfort to the enemy, and, despite our efforts, is still in prison.’

“I thanked him, and regained my cab with my head whirling. What, after all, if the countess should have deceived me? My blood chilled as I remembered her words of the day before: recalled by the government she hated, her two brothers forced into the army, the cruelties and indignities Russia had heaped upon her family, and this last peremptory order to return. Had my sympathetic nature and inexperience gotten me into trouble? Then that Madonna-like head with angelic face, the lips moving in prayer, rose before me. No, no; not she. I would stake my life.

“I entered my hotel, and walked across the corridor for the key of my room. Standing by the porter was an Austrian officer in full uniform, even to his white kid gloves. As I passed I heard the porter say in German:–

“‘Yes; that is the man.’

“The Austrian looked at me searchingly, and, wheeling around sharply, said:–

“‘Monsieur, can I see you alone? I have something of importance to communicate.’

“The remark and his abrupt manner indicated so plainly an arrest, that for the moment I hesitated, running over in my mind what might be my wisest course to pursue. Then, thinking I could best explain my business in Vienna in the privacy of my room, I said stiffly:–

“‘Yes; I am now on my way to my apartment. I will see you there.’

“He entered first, shut the door behind him, crossed the room; passed his hand behind the curtains, opened the closet, shut it, and said:–

“‘We are alone?’

“‘Quite.’

“Then, confronting me, ‘You are an American?’

“‘You are right.’

“‘And have your passport with you?’

“I drew it from my pocket, and handed it to him. He glanced at the signature, refolded it, and said:–

“‘You took the Countess Smolensk! to the station this morning. Where did you meet her?’

“‘On the train yesterday leaving Venice.’

“‘Never before?’

“‘Never.’

“‘Why did she not leave Venice earlier?’

“‘The count was dying, and could not be moved. He was buried two days ago.’

“A shade passed over his face, ‘Poor De Rescka! I suspected as much.’

“Then facing me again, his face losing its suspicious expression:–

“‘Monsieur, I am the brother of the countess,–Colonel Boski of the army. A week ago my letters were intercepted, and I left Cracow in the night. Since then I have been hunted like an animal. This uniform is my third disguise. As soon as my connection with the plot was discovered, my sister was ordered home. The death of the count explains her delay, and prevented my seeing her at the station. I had selected the first station out of Vienna. I tried for an opportunity this morning at the depot, but dared not. I saw you, and learned from the cabman your hotel.’

“‘But, colonel,’ said I, the attache’s warning in my ears, ‘you will pardon me, but these are troublous times. I am alone here, on my way to Berlin to pursue my studies. I found the countess ill and suffering, and unable to sleep. She interested me profoundly, and I did what I could to relieve her. I would have done the same for any other woman in her condition the world over, no matter what the consequences. If you are her brother, you will appreciate this. If you are here for any other purpose, say so at once. I leave Vienna at noon.’