The large Queen Anne windows were wide open, and soft noises of the night floated in with the zephyrs. The whole air seemed filled with waiting expectancy for something tender and pa.s.sionate to be.

What was that? Steps upon the terrace--measured steps--and then silence, and then a deep sigh. It must be John--out there alone!--when she would have loved to have stayed with him, to have woven sweet fancies in the luminous darkness, to have taken and given long kisses, to have buried her face in the honeysuckle which grew there, steeped in dew. But he had said to her after their stately dinner in the great dining-hall:

"Play to me a little, Amaryllis, and then go to bed, child--you must be tired out."

And after that he had not spoken more, but pushed her gently towards the door with a solemn kiss on the forehead, and just a murmur of "Good-night." And she had deceived herself and thought that it meant that he would come quickly, and so she had run up the stairs.

But now it was after two in the morning, and would soon be growing towards dawn--and John was out there sighing alone!

She crept to the window and leaned upon the sill. She thought that she could distinguish his tall figure there by the carved stone bench.

"John!" she called softly, "I am, so lonely--John, dearest--won't you come?"

Then she felt that her ears must be deceiving her, for there was the sound of a faint suppressed sob, and then, a second afterwards, her husband's voice answering cheerily, with its usual casual note:

"You naughty little night bird! Go back to bed--and to sleep--yes--I am coming immediately now!"

But when he did steal in silently from the dressing-room an hour later in a grey dawn, Amaryllis, worn out with speculation and disappointment, had fallen asleep.

He looked down upon her charming face--the long, curly brown lashes sweeping the flushed cheek, and at the rounded, beautiful girlish form--all his very own to clasp and to kiss and to hold in his arms--and two scalding tears gathered in his blue eyes, and he took his place beside her without making a sound.

CHAPTER V

"Here are the papers, Hans, but I think the whole thing stupid nonsense.

What does it matter to any one what Poland wants? What a nuisance all these old boring political things are! They always spoiled our happiness since the beginning--and now if it wasn't for them we could have a glorious time here together. I would love managing to come out to meet you under Stanisla.s.s' nose. None of the others I have ever had are as good in the way of a lover as you."

The man swore in German under his breath.

"Of a lightness always, Harietta! No _devouement_, no patriotism....

Should I have agreed to the divorce, loving your body as I do, had it not been a serious matter? The pig-dog who now owns you must be sucked dry of information--and then I shall take you back again."

A cunning look came into Madame Boleski's hazel eyes. She had not the slightest intention of permitting this--to go back to Hans! To the difficulty of making both ends meet! Even though he did cause every inch of her well-preserved body to tingle! They had suggested her getting the divorce for their own stupid political ends, to be able to place her in the arms of Stanisla.s.s Boleski, and there she meant to stay! It was infinitely more agreeable to be a grande dame in Paris, and presently in London, than to be the spouse of Hans in Berlin, where, whatever his secret power might be with the authorities, he could give her no great social position; and social position was the goal of all Harietta Boleski's desires!

She could attract lovers in any cla.s.s of life--that had never been her difficulty. Her trouble had been that she could never force herself into good American society, even after she had married Hans, and they had dwelt there for a year or more. Her own compatriots would have none of her, and so she wanted triumph in other lands. She hated to remember her youth of humiliation, trying to play a social game on the earnings of any work that she could pick up, between discreet outings with--friends who failed to suggest matrimony. Hans, on some secret mission to San Francisco, where she had gone as companion to a friend, had seemed a veritable G.o.dsend and Prince Charming, when, in her thirtieth year, he actually offered legal marriage, completely overcome by her great physical charm. But although she loved Hans with whatever of that emotion such a nature could be capable of, five years of him and more or less genteel poverty had been enough, and now she was free of that, and could still enjoy surrept.i.tiously the pleasure of his pa.s.sion, and reign as a _persona grata_ wife of one of the richest men in Poland at the same time. That those in authority who had arranged the divorce required of her certain tiresome obligations in return for their services, was one of those annoying parts of life! She took not the slightest interest in the affairs of any country. Nothing really mattered to her, but herself. Her whole force was concentrated upon the betterment of the position and physical pleasure of Harietta Boleski.

It was this instinct alone which had prompted her to acquire a smattering of education--and with the quick, adaptive faculty of a monkey she had been able to use this to its utmost limits, as well as her histrionic talent--no mean one--to gain her ends. She was now playing the role of a lady, and playing it brilliantly she knew--and here was Hans back again, and suggesting that when she had secured all the information that he required from Stanisla.s.s she should return to him!

"Tra la la!" she said to herself, there in the room at the Hotel Astoria, where she had gone to meet him, "think this if it pleases you! It will keep you quiet and won't hurt me!"

For the moment she wanted Hans--the man, and was determined to waste no further time on useless discussion. So she began her blandishments, taking pride in showing him her beautiful garments, and her string of big pearls; each thing exhibited between her voluptuous kisses, until Hans grew intoxicated with desire, and became as clay in her hands.

"It is not thy pig-dog of a husband I wish to kill!" he said, after one hour had gone by in inarticulate murmurings. "Him I do not fear--it is the Russian, Verisschenzko, who fills me with hate--we have regard of him, he does not go un.o.bserved, and if you allure him also among the rest, beyond the instructions which you had, then there will be unpleasantness for you, my little cat--thy Hans will twist his bear's neck, and thine also, if need be!"

"Verisschenzko!" laughed Harietta, "why, I hardly know him; he don't amount to a row of pins! He's Stanisla.s.s' friend--not mine."

Then she smoothed back Hans' rather fierce, fair moustache from his lips and kissed him again--her ruby ring flashing in a ray of sunlight.

"Look! isn't this a lovely jewel, Hans! My old Stannie gave it to me only some days ago--it is my new toy--see--"

Hans examined it:

"Thou art a creature of the devil, Harietta, there is not one of thy evil qualities of greed and extortion which I do not know. Thou liest to me and to all men--the only good thing in thee is thy body--and for that all men let thee lie."

Harietta pouted.

"I can't understand when you talk like that, Hans--it's all warbash, as we said out West. What are qualities? What is there but the body anyway?

Great sakes! that's enough for me, and the devil is only in story books to frighten children--I'm just like every other woman and I want to have a good time."

"I hear that you are going to London soon," said Hans, dropping the tutoyage and growing brutally severe, "to conquer new lovers and to wear more dresses? But there you will be of great use to me. Your instructions will be all ready in cypher by Tuesday night, when you must meet me at whatever point is convenient to you, after nine o'clock--here, perhaps?"

Harietta frowned--she had other views for Tuesday night.

"What shall I gain by coming, or by going on with this spying on Stan?

I'm tired of it all; it breaks my head trying to take in your horrid old cypher. I don't think I'll do it any more."

The Prussian's face grew livid and his mouth set like an iron spring. He looked at her straight between the eyes, as a lion tamer might have done, and he took a cane from where it laid on a bureau near.

"Until you are black and blue, I will beat you, woman," he said, "as I have done before--if you fail us in a single thing--and do not think we are powerless! It shall be that you are exposed and degraded, and so lose your game. Now tell me, will you go on?"

Harietta crouched in fear, just animal, physical fear--she had felt that stick, it was a nightmare to her, as it might have been to a child. She knew that Hans would keep his word. His physical strength had been one of the things she had adored in him--but to be degraded and exposed, as well as beaten, touched her sensibilities, after all the trouble she had taken to become a lady of the world! This was too much. No! Tiresome as all these old papers were, she would have to go on--but since he threatened her she would pay him out! The Russian should have papers as well! And so there was good in all things, since now material advantage would come from both sides. Was it not right that you looked to yourself, especially when menaced with a stick?

She laughed softly; this was humorous and she could appreciate such kind of humour.

Hans crushed her in his arms.

"Answer!" he ordered gutturally. "Answer, you fiend!"

Harietta became cajoling--no one could have looked more frank or simple, as simple as she looked to all great ladies when she would disarm them and win her way. She would look up at them gently, and ask their advice, and say that of course she was only a newcomer and very ignorant, not clever like they!

"Hans, darling, I was only joking, am I not devoted to your interests and always ready to serve you and the higher powers whom you serve? Of course, I will come on Tuesday night and, of course, I will go on."

She let her lip tremble and her eyes fill with tears; they were quite real tears. She felt the hardship of having to weary her brain with a new cypher, and self-pity inflames the lachrymose glands.

"To business then, _mein liebchen_--attend carefully to every word. In England you must be received by Royalty itself, and you must go into the highest circles of the diplomatic and political world. The men are indiscreet there; they trust their women and tell them secret things. It is the women you must please. The English are a race of fools; numbers are aristocrats in all cla.s.ses and therefore too stupid to suspect craft, and those who are not are trying to appear to be, and too conceited to use their wits. You can be of enormous use to our country, Harietta, my wife," and he walked up and down the room in his excitement, his hands clasped behind him--he would have been a very handsome man but for his too wide hips.

Marietta looked at him out of the corner of her eye; she did not notice this defect in him, for her he was a splendid male, with a delightful quality of savagery in love which she had found in no other man except Verisschenzko--Verisschenzko! Her thoughts hesitated when they came to him--Verisschenzko was adorable, but he was a man to be feared--much more than Hans. Him she could always cajole if she used pa.s.sion enough, but she had the uncomfortable feeling that Verisschenzko gave way to her only when--and because--he wanted to, not for the reason that she had conquered him.

"Of great use to our country, Harietta, my wife," Hans murmured again, clearing his throat.

"I am not your wife, my pretty Hans!" and she raised her eyebrows, and curled one corner of her upper lip. "You gave me up at the bidding of the higher command--I am your mistress now and then, when I feel inclined--but I am Stanisla.s.s' wife. I like a man better when I am his mistress; there are no tiresome old duties along with it."

Hans growled, he hated to realise this.

"You must be more careful with your speech, Harietta. When you get to England you must not say 'along with it'--after the pains I have taken with your grammar, too! You can use Americanisms if they are apt, and even a literal translation of another language--but bad grammar--common phrases--pah! that is to give the show away!"