‘Why, what will you do with her?’
‘You must ask my lord that,’ said Vlacho. ‘If she will give up the island, perhaps nothing.’
‘Ah, well, I take very little interest in her. Isn’t my husband coming to supper, Vlacho?’
‘To supper here, my lady? Surely no. The great house is ready now. That is a more fitting place for my lady than this dog-hole. I am here to escort you there. There my lord will sup with you. Oh, it’s a grand house!’
‘A grand house!’ she echoed scornfully. ‘Why, what is there to see in it?’
‘Oh, many things,’ said Vlacho. ‘Yes, secrets, my lady! And my lord bids me say that from love to you he will show you to-night the great secret of his house. He desires to show his love and trust in you, and will therefore reveal to you all his secrets.’
When I, behind the curtain, heard the ruffian say this, I laid firmer hold on my lance. But the lady was equal to Vlacho.
‘You’re very melodramatic with your secrets,’ she said contemptuously. ‘I am tired, and my head aches. Your secrets will wait; and if my husband will not come and sup with me, I’ll sup alone here. Tell him I can’t come, please, Vlacho.’
‘But my lord was most urgent that you should come,’ said Vlacho.
‘I would come if I were well,’ said she.
‘But I could help you. If you would permit, I and my men would carry you down all the way on your couch.’
‘My good Vlacho, you are very tedious, you and your men. And my husband is tedious also, if he sent all these long messages. I am ill and I will not come. Is that enough?’
‘My lord will be very angry if I return alone,’ pleaded Vlacho humbly.
‘I’ll write a certificate that you did your best to persuade me,’ she said with a scornful laugh.
I heard the innkeeper’s heavy feet move a step or two across the floor. He was coming nearer to where she lay on the couch.
‘I daren’t return without you,’ said he.
‘Then you must stay here and sup with me.’
‘My lord does not love to be opposed.’
‘Then, my good Vlacho, he should not have married me,’ she retorted.
She played the game gallantly, fencing and parrying with admirable tact, and with a coolness wonderful for a woman in such peril. My heart went out to her, and I said to myself that she should not want any help that I could give.
She had raised her voice on the last words, and her defiant taunt rang out clear and loud. It seemed to alarm Vlacho.
‘Hush, not so loud!’ he said hastily. There was the hint of a threat in his voice.
‘Not so loud!’ she echoed. ‘And why not so loud? Is there harm in what I say?’
I wondered at Vlacho’s sudden fright. The idea shot into my head – and the idea was no pleasant one – that there must be people within earshot, perhaps people who had not been trusted with Constantine’s secrets, and would, for that reason, do his bidding better.
‘Harm! No, no harm; but no need to let every one hear,’ said Vlacho, confusedly and with evident embarrassment.
‘Every one? Who is here, then?’
‘I have brought one or two men to escort my lady,’ said he. ‘With these cut-throat Englishmen about’ (Bravo, bravo, Vlacho!) ‘one must be careful.’
A scornful laugh proclaimed her opinion of his subterfuge, and she met him with a skilful thrust.
‘But if they don’t know – yes, and aren’t to know that I am the wife of Constantine, how can I go to the house and stay with him?’ she asked.
‘Oh,’ said he, ready again with his plausible half-truths, ‘that is one of the secrets. Must I tell my lady part of it? There is an excellent hiding-place in the house, where my lord can bestow you most comfortably. You will want for nothing, and nobody will know that you are there, except the few faithful men who have guarded you here.’
‘Indeed, if I am still to be a stowaway, I’ll stay here,’ said she. ‘If my lord will announce me publicly to all the island as his wife, then I will come and take my place at the head of his house; but without that I will not come.’
‘Surely you will be able to persuade him to that yourself,’ said Vlacho. ‘But dare I make conditions with my lord?’
‘You will make them in my name,’ she answered. ‘Go and tell him what I say.’
A pause followed. Then Vlacho said in sullen obstinate tones:
‘I’ll not go without you. I was ordered to bring you, and I will. Come.’
I heard the sudden rustle of her dress as she drew back; then a little cry: ‘You’re hurting me.’
‘You must come,’ said Vlacho. ‘I shall call my men and carry you.’
‘I will not come,’ she said in a low voice, resolute and fierce.
Vlacho laughed. ‘We’ll see about that,’ said he, and his heavy steps sounded on the floor.
‘What are you going to the window for?’ she cried.
‘To call Demetri and Kortes to help me,’ said he; ‘or will you come?’
I drew back a pace, resting against the windowsill. Hogvardt’s lance was protruded before me. At that moment I asked nothing better than to bury its point in the fat innkeeper’s flesh.
‘You’ll repent it if you do what you say,’ said she.
‘I shall repent it more if I don’t obey my lord,’ said Vlacho. ‘See, my hand is on the curtains. Will you come, my lady?’
‘I will not come,’ said she.
There was one last short interval. I heard them both breathing, and I held my own breath. My revolver rested in my pocket; the noise of a shot would be fatal. With God’s help I would drive the lance home with one silent sufficient thrust. There would be a rogue less in the world and another chance for her and me.
‘As you will, then,’ said the innkeeper.
The curtain-rings rattled along the rod; the heavy hangings gave back. The moon, which was newly risen, streamed full in Vlacho’s eyes and on the pale strained face behind him. He saw me; he uttered one low exclamation: ‘Christ!’ His hand flew to his belt. He drew a pistol out and raised it; but I was too quick for him. I drove the great hunting-knife on the end of the sapling full and straight into his breast. With a groan he flung his arms over his head and fell sideways, half-supported by the curtain till the fabric was rent away from the rings and fell over his body, enveloping him in a thick pall. I drew my lance back. The force of the blow had overstrained Hogvardt’s wire fastenings; the blade was bent to an angle with the shaft and shook loosely from side to side. Vlacho’s blood began to curl in a meandering trickle from beneath the curtain. Madame Stefanopoulos glared at me, speechless. But my eyes fell from her to the floor; for there I saw two long black shadows. A sudden and desperate inspiration seized me. She was my ally, I hers. If both were held guilty of this act we could render no service to each other. If she were still unsuspected – and nobody except myself had heard her talk with Vlacho – she might yet help herself and me.
‘Throw me over,’ I whispered in English. ‘Cry for help.’
‘What?’