Chapter XVII: Pitch and Toss

The following morning, I cabled a detective agency, in New York, giving them all the material facts in the case and requesting them to make an exhaustive investigation of the movements of Madeline Spencer during the period intervening between my confirmation as an Archduke and her sailing for Europe. I told them I required evidence, promptly, to disprove the marriage, and gave them _carte blanche_ in its gathering. At the same time, I wired a prominent Army officer, at Governor's Island, to vouch for my order. I wanted no time lost while the Agency was investigating me.

Of course, the natural method would have been to direct the Valerian Ambassador, at Washington, to procure the information; but, I felt quite sure, that would simply be playing into Lotzen's hand. Some one in the Embassy would be very willing to oblige the Heir Presumptive by betraying me. And it was only reasonable to suppose the Duke had already arranged for it. It was one of those "trifles" which, as Courtney had said, would not be overlooked.

About noon, Bernheim came in with a card in his fingers and a queer smile about his firm-set lips.

I took the card.

"The devil!" I exclaimed. Then I looked at Bernheim. "What's the move, now?"

"That is what I tried to find out, sir," he answered.

"And failed?'

"Completely. And, yet, I didn't dare to dismiss her without your direct order."

"As she well knew."

"And as she had the effrontery to tell me," he added.

I laughed. "And did it very prettily, too, I'll wager."

"Quite too prettily. 'Come, Colonel Bernheim,' she said, looking me straight in the eyes, and smiling sweetly enough to turn most any man's head, 'you want to refuse to let me see the Marshal, but, you know perfectly well, you dare not. He might be glad for a word with me in private; and then, again, he might not--but you don't know and you are afraid to risk it. _Voilà_!' And then she laughed."

"Well," said I, "I can't imagine what she wants, but you may admit her--Stay a moment--could you manage to overhear the conversation?"

"Only by leaving the door ajar."

"Well, do what you can," I said.

I was curious by what name he would announce the lady; but he used none. He simply swung back the door and spoke into the outer room:

"Madame, His Royal Highness will receive you."

"You are most kind, Colonel Bernheim," she said, in her sweetest tones, as she passed him; "I owe you many thanks."

"You owe me none, madame," was the rather gruff answer.

Then he went out, and closed the door with altogether unnecessary vigor.

She turned and looked after him.

"What a great bear he is, Armand," she said, with a confidential air.

I stiffened. "You wished to see me, Mrs. Spencer," I said.

She laughed. "Still denying me, are you?" she rippled--"And even in your own private office!"

I looked at her, in silence.

"Please don't trouble to offer me a chair, dear," she went on; "this one looks comfortable,"--then calmly seated herself, and began to draw off her gloves.

The cool assurance of the woman was so absurd I had to smile.

"I fancy it would be quite superfluous to offer you anything that chanced to be within your reach," I said.

"Certainly, dear, when, at the same time, it chances to be my husband's," she answered, and fell to smoothing out her gloves.

"Come, come!" I exclaimed. "What's the sense in keeping up the farce?"

"What farce, Armand, dear?"

"That I am your husband," I answered curtly. Her 'dears' and her 'Armands' were getting on my nerves.

Her face took on an injured look.

"Judging from your action, the other night and now, it would be well for me if it were a farce," she said sadly.

I walked over to the table, on the far side of which she sat.

"Is it possible, madame, that, here, alone with me, you still have the effrontery to maintain you are my wife?"

She put her elbows on the table and, resting her chin in her hands, looked me straight in the eyes.

"And do you, sir, here, alone with me, still have the effrontery to maintain that I am not your wife?" she asked.

"It's not necessary," said I, "for you know it quite as well as I do."

She shrugged her shoulders. "You're a good bit of a brute, Armand."

"And you're a----" I began quickly--then stopped.

"Yes?" she inflected. "I am a----?"

"I leave the blank to your own filling," I said, with a bow.

She laughed gayly. "Do you know you have played this scene very nicely, my dear," she said. "If Colonel Bernheim has chanced to stay close enough to the door, he so neatly slammed ajar, he has heard all that we have said. Though, whether it was by your order or due to his own curiosity, I, of course, do not know. Either way, however, you scored with him."

I was so sure that Bernheim would now be far enough away from the door that I reached across and flung it back.

The ante-room was empty, and, through its open doorway, we could see Bernheim and Moore coming slowly down the corridor and twenty feet away.

But she only laughed again.

"Which simply proves Colonel Bernheim's wonderful agility," she said. "He must be a most valuable Aide."

I closed the door.

"We are drifting from the point," I said. "You did me the honor to request an interview."

"Not exactly, my dear Armand. I sought admittance to my husband."

"By 'husband' you mean----?" I asked.

She smiled tolerantly. "By all means, keep up the play," she said; "but we shall save time and energy by assuming that, whenever I speak of my husband, I mean you."

"I take it, we may also assume that you did not seek such admission to me for the sole pleasure of looking at me?" I said.

"Quite right, Armand; though there was a time--and not so long ago--when we both were more than glad to look at each other.--And, maybe, I have not changed." And she leaned forward and smiled with the frankness of a sweet-faced child.

I made a gesture of repugnance.

"For Heaven's sake, madame, lay aside this simulated sentiment and be good enough to come to the point."

"The point?--the point?" she replied absently. "True, I was forgetting--the sight of you, dear, always stirs me so. I came here very angry with you, and, now, I have almost forgiven you."

I put my finger on the electric button, and Colonel Moore responded.

"Mrs. Spencer desires her carriage," I said.

She gave him one of her sweetest smiles.

"It's too bad, Colonel Moore, that I am always imposed upon you when your chief sends me from his august presence;" and she held out her hand to him.

Moore's bow over it was positively blarneying in its deference.

"It is a great pleasure, I assure you," he said.

She shook her head at him.

"Rather _double entendre_, Colonel."

"Madame knows it was not so meant," was the quick reply.

She gave him a glance of amused indifference; then arose.

"And Your Royal Highness does not wish to hear my particular errand?" she said.

"No more than before you--entered," I replied.

"Intruded, you mean."

"Possibly, that would be more accurate," I admitted.

She gave a sarcastic laugh.

"Your royalty seems to have been fatal to your courtesy."

"At least, there is one particular instance in which it seems to have increased my forbearance."

She gathered up her skirts, as though to go--then turned.

"And that instance is myself?" she asked.

"Your intuition is marvellous," I replied.

She sat down on the chair arm.

"But, why do you forbear, my dear?" she said. "If I am not your wife, why don't you do something to prove it?"

"What, for example?" I inquired.

She shrugged her shoulders. "How ingenious you are, Armand! You would even have me believe that, having decided to deny me, you did not, also, arrange how to proceed when I appeared."

"My dear Mrs. Spencer, I said, the other night, that you were a great actress; permit me to repeat it."

"It is very easy to act the truth, Armand," she answered.

"And your appearance in Dornlitz is, I suppose, in the interest of truth?" I mocked.

She looked at me very steadily, a moment.

"At any rate, you must admit it was well for truth and decency that I did appear."

"We but waste each other's time, Mrs. Spencer," I answered curtly, and nodded to Moore.

But she gave no heed to the Aide's proffered arm. She did not even glance at him, but leaned back on the chair, swinging her foot and looking as insolently tantalizing as possible. It was a very pretty pose.

"I may be very stupid, Armand," she said, "but, I cannot understand why, if my presence in Dornlitz is so annoying to you, you prevent me leaving it."

I smiled. "At last," said I, "we are coming to the point."

"As though you hadn't guessed it from the first," she laughed.

"Unfortunately, I have not Mrs. Spencer's keenness of intuition," I returned.

She glanced over at my desk.

"The Governor of Dornlitz needs none. Official reports are better than intuition."

"But not so rapid," I replied.

She smiled. "I was looking at the telephone," she said dryly.

"An admirable medium for unpleasant conversations," I observed.

"Particularly, between husband and wife, you mean."

I answered with a shrug.

"And, also, between the city gates and headquarters," she continued.

"You are pleased to speak in riddles," I said.

She let herself sink, with sinuous grace, into the chair.

I sighed, with suggestive audibility, and waited.

It was a good deal of a cat and dog business--and the cat was having all the fun--and knew it.

I could not well have her dragged from the room; and the other alternative--to leave, myself--was not to my taste. It looked too much like flight.

"I wish you would explain why I am not permitted to leave Dornlitz," she said.

"Have you been restrained from leaving?" I asked.

"Still pretending ignorance, my dear," she laughed. "Well, then, I was refused exit at the North gate this morning; and that, though I was only going for a short drive in the country."

"Why didn't you try another gate?" I asked.

"I did--three others."

"With similar results?"

"Absolutely."

"Therefore, you inferred?" I asked.

"Nothing, my dear Armand, nothing. I know. At one of the gates, the officer condescended to tell me that he was acting under the express order of Field Marshal, His Royal Highness the Governor of Dornlitz."

"And he told you the truth," I said.

"Of course he did," she laughed. "I never doubted it. What I want to know is your reason for the order."

"And that is what brought you here?" I asked.

"That--and the pleasure of seeing my dear husband," she drawled.

"I'll make a bargain with you, Mrs. Spencer," I said: "My motive for the order, in exchange, in strict confidence, for your motive for coming to Dornlitz."

Of course, I had no notion she would disclose the actual motive in the plot. What I was after was the story they had prepared to explain why I came to Valeria alone and left her to follow and, in the interim, posed as a bachelor.

"Surely, Armand, you're not serious!" she exclaimed.

"I never was more so," I said.

"But why should you want me to tell you something you already know?" she asked--with a quick glance at Moore.

"Come, come!" said I; "Colonel Moore is totally deaf, at times. I promise your secret shall remain within this room."

"_My_ secret!" she laughed. "Really, Armand, you are delicious."

"I don't quite understand," I said.

She laughed again. "It seems to me that why I followed you to Valeria, instead of coming with you, is, particularly, your secret. You wouldn't care for His Majesty to know it, would you?"

"If it's my secret," said I, "don't you think I ought to be let into it?"

She thought a moment--evidently considering how much she should reveal to me. Of course, she understood what I wanted and why; but this order of mine, restricting her within the Capital, had evidently been totally unexpected, and she was set upon having some explanation of it. Hence, she was ready to bargain.

"Come!" said I. "In this game you're playing, you will have to disclose it very soon, anyway."

"But, it seems so silly, Armand, to tell you what you yourself arranged."

"Oh! So I arranged for your coming!" I exclaimed. "I suppose I also arranged for what you have done since you've been here."

She smiled sweetly. "Not quite all, my dear. I've been arranging a few things myself, thanks to your perfidy."

"We are getting away from the main point," I said. "You were about to tell me why you came to Dornlitz."

She arose languidly, and began to draw on her gloves.

"Oh, was I? Well, then, I've changed my mind."

"I bid you good-day, Mrs. Spencer," I said, and turned away.

She gave a light laugh. "Aren't you glad to be rid of me, dear?"

I faced about.

"Very," I said bluntly.

She put out a hand, as though to ward off a blow, and her face flushed, an instant.

"Armand, my dear----" she began.

I turned my back and walked toward the window.

Then, there came the rustle of silk behind me--a soft arm was flung about my neck, and a tear-choked voice exclaimed:

"Haven't you one kind word for me, dear?"

I reached up and put her arm sharply aside.

"It seems to me, madame, there has been enough of this nonsense," I said. "There is no gallery here to play to, as you had in the Hanging Garden."

She studied my face a moment--drawing her tiny lace handkerchief nervously from hand to hand.

"I must ask you to leave my office immediately," I went on. "If you decline, I shall leave and not return until you have gone."

She slowly drew herself up, and stepped back.

"And this is your last word to your wife?" she asked.

"It is my last word to you, Mrs. Spencer," I said curtly. "Are you going--or shall I?"

She swept me a bit of a courtesy, smiling the while.

"I am going, my dear Armand, I am going--but it is only _au revoir_."

I bowed stiffly, and motioned to Moore to escort her.

He swung open the door--then stopped short. Just entering the ante-room, from the corridor, were the King, the Princess Royal, and the American Ambassador.

Instantly, Mrs. Spencer drew back, and gave me a mocking smile.

"I've changed my mind again, dear," she said. "I'll make that trade of motives, now."