"I can."

"Will you give me time to think?"

A flash of joy crossed her face. "Then I am not so indifferent to you as you would have me suppose," she said softly.

"You are not so--no, no! I can't say it! Give me time! give me time!" He opened the door.

"Wait, wait!" she said, and closed it again. "I will give you two days.

Then I return to London. If I have your promise, Anne shall be set free from this accusation. If you tamper in the meantime with her--for you may know where she is--I'll have her arrested at once."

"I will do nothing," he said in m.u.f.fled tones.

"Swear! swear!" She placed her hands on his shoulders.

Giles stepped back to free himself. "I will swear nothing," he said in icy tones. "I take my two days." So saying he opened the door, but not quickly enough to prevent her kissing him.

"You are mine! you are mine!" she exclaimed exultingly. "Let Anne have her liberty, her good name. I have you. You are mine!--mine!"

"On conditions," said Giles cruelly, and went away quickly.

CHAPTER XVI

THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS

Giles left "The Merry Dancer" quite determined to deceive Olga if it were possible. No faith should be kept with such a woman. She had power, and she was using it unscrupulously for selfish ends. Moreover, come what might, Giles could not bring himself to make her his wife. He loved Anne too deeply for that. And then he began to ask himself if he were not selfish also, seeing that he would not lose his own gratification to save the woman he loved. Nevertheless, he could not contemplate giving up Anne with equanimity, and set his wits to work in order to circ.u.mvent the treacherous Olga.

In the first place he now felt certain that Anne was in the neighborhood, and, as he shrewdly suspected, in the Priory. The discovery of the coin and the presence of Olga in the village made him certain on this point. In some way or another she had got to know of Anne's whereabouts, and had come here to make capital of her knowledge.

If he consented to surrender Anne and make Olga his wife, she would probably a.s.sist Anne to escape, or else, as she a.s.serted, clear her of complicity in the crime.

On the other hand, should he refuse, she would then tell the police where the unfortunate governess was to be found. It might be that Anne could save herself. But seeing that she had fled immediately after the murder, it would be difficult for her to exonerate herself. Also, the reason she had then to take the guilt upon her own shoulders might again stand in the way of her now clearing her character. Nothing was left but to marry Olga and so free Anne, or seek Anne himself. Ware determined to adopt the latter course as the least repugnant to his feelings.

But Olga was no mean antagonist. She loved Giles so much that she knew perfectly well that he did not love her, and this knowledge taught her to mistrust him. As her pa.s.sion was so great she was content to take him as a reluctant husband, in the belief that she, as his wife, would in time wean him from his earlier love. But she was well aware that, even to save Anne, he would not give in without a struggle.

This being the case, she considered what he would do. It struck her that he would see if he could get into the Priory, for from some words he had let fall she was convinced that he thought Anne was concealed therein.

Olga had her own opinion about that; but she had to do with his actions at present and not with her own thoughts. For this reason she determined to watch him--to be in his company throughout the time of probation.

Thus it happened that before Giles could arrange his plans the next day--one of which entailed a neighborly visit to Franklin--Olga made her appearance at his house, and expressed a desire to see his picture gallery, of which she had heard much. Her mother, she said, was coming over that afternoon to look at the house, which, as she had been told, was a model of what an English country-house should be.

Giles growled at this speech, being clever enough to see through the artifices of Mademoiselle Olga.

"The house is as old as the Tudors," he expostulated; "your mother should look at a more modern one."

"Oh, no," replied Olga sweetly. "I am sure she will be delighted with this one; it is so picturesque."

"I am afraid that I promised to pay a visit this afternoon."

"Ah, you must put it off, Mr. Ware. When two ladies come to see you, you really cannot leave them alone."

"If the next day will do----"

"I don't think it will. My mother and I leave the next day. She is due in town to a reception at the Austrian Emba.s.sy."

Ware made other excuses, but Olga would listen to none of them. She stopped all the morning and looked at the pictures, but she never referred to their conversation of the previous night. There was a tacit understanding between them that it should remain in abeyance until the time given for the reply of Giles was ended. Still, Ware could not forget that burning kiss, and was awkward in consequence.

Not so Olga. She was quite cool and self-possessed, and although alone with him for close on two hours, did not show the least confusion.

Giles, much disgusted, called her in his own mind "unmaidenly." But she was not that, for she behaved very discreetly. She was simply a woman deeply in love who was bent on gaining her ends. Considering the depth of her pa.s.sion, she restrained herself very creditably when with the man she loved. Giles now saw how it was that she had defied her family and had taken her own way in life.

"I won't stop to luncheon," she said, when he asked her; "but I and my mother will come over at three o'clock." It was now close on two. "I am sure we shall have a pleasant afternoon."

Giles tried to smile, and succeeded very well, considering what his feelings were at the moment. If he could only have behaved brutally, he would have refused the honor of the proposed visit, but it is difficult to be rude to a charming woman bent upon having her own way. Ware kicked as a man will, but ended in accepting the inevitable.

Olga returned to the inn, and found the Princess seated on the sofa fanning herself violently. Mrs. Morris was in the room, fluttering nervously as she laid the cloth for luncheon. Olga looked at her mother.

"Did you take your walk?" she asked.

The Princess nodded. "I am very warm," she said.

"What do you think now?" asked her daughter impatiently.

"I think that you are a very clever woman, Olga," replied the Princess; "but I am too hungry to talk just now. When I have eaten and am rested we can speak."

"But just one word. Am I right?"

"Perfectly right."

This conversation was conducted in French, and Mrs. Morris could make nothing of it. Even if she had known the sense she would not have understood what it meant. However, Olga and her mother reverted to English for the benefit of the landlady, and chatted about their proposed visit to Ware's mansion. After that came luncheon. Shortly after three mother and daughter were with Giles. He received them with composure, although he felt quite otherwise than composed. The Princess p.r.o.nounced him a charming young man.

"And what a delightful place you have here!" she said, looking at the quaint Tudor house, with its grey walls and mullion windows. "It is like a fairy palace. The Castle"--she meant her husband's residence in Styria--"is cruel-looking and wild."

"It was built in the Middle Ages," said Olga. "I don't think any one was particularly amiable then."

"I would rather have stayed in Jamaica," sighed the Princess. "Why did I ever leave it?"

Olga, who always appeared annoyed when her mother reverted to her early life, touched the elder woman's elbow. The Princess sighed again, and held her peace. She had a fine temper of her own, but always felt that it was an effort to use it. She therefore usually gave in to Olga. "It saved trouble," she explained.

But her good temper did not last all the afternoon, and ended in disarranging Olga's plans. After a hearty afternoon tea on the lawn the Princess said that she did not feel well, and wished to go home. Olga demurred, but Giles, seeing the chance of escape, agreed that the Princess really was unwell, and proposed to send them back to the inn in his carriage. Princess Karacsay jumped at the offer.

"It will save me walking," she declared fretfully, "and I have done so much this morning."

"Where did you go?" asked Giles, wondering that so indolent a woman should exert herself on such a hot day.

"To some woods round a place they call the Priory."

"To the Priory!" he exclaimed, astonished. "Do you know Mr. Franklin?"