His phrases were too well spoken, and the look in his eyes disturbed her.

"You--you wish me to understand that I am free to go----"

"Hardly that," he interrupted with a short laugh. "Only this morning you said that you would kill me if you dared. I do not relish the notion of being delivered into the hands of the police."

"You think that I would do that?" she questioned.

"Wouldn't you?"

"I don't know. I----"

"I am sure of it. I am no longer under any illusions with regard to your sentiments toward myself. This morning I uncovered my heart to you--and you plunged a dagger into it. It was too much--beyond my deserts. I am no man for a woman to spit upon, Countess Strahni. You are still a prisoner--as completely under my power as though you and I were the last people left upon the earth."

His tone was mild, but there was a depth of meaning under it.

"I--I can scarcely be unaware of it," she murmured. "What are you going to do with me?"

"For the present we shall stay here--until an opportunity presents----"

"For escape?"

"I could go alone tonight--and reach Germany--without you. That is not my purpose."

"Then you propose to take me with you?"

"When the coast is clear--yes."

"And if the coast should not be clear?"

"I shall remain."

The situation was as she had supposed, but his motive--the real motive!

She drew the wrap more closely around her throat and turned away from him again. To escape from him! That was the only thing she could think of now. Upon the road, his attitude of firm consideration, his cool insistence upon compliance with his wishes, had not been nearly so ominous as the personal note which he had injected into their relations.

He frightened her now. But to escape? She was watched, she was sure, for in the afternoon, while the drawbridge was lowered, she had made out the figure of a man on guard at the end of the causeway. But while her conversation with Goritz dismayed her, she studied him keenly, trying to read him by what he did not say.

She smiled at him impudently.

"And suppose I attempted to escape?" she asked.

"You would fail. There is but one exit from Szolnok--the drawbridge--and that is continually guarded."

"You have ordered your men to shoot me?"

"No--but you will not pass."

"I see. Your contrition does not go as far as that."

"Not beyond the walls of Schloss Szolnok," he said coolly.

"And you ask me to believe in the integrity of your motives? What was the use, Herr Hauptmann? I could understand duplicity to me in the performance of a duty, but to practice your machine-made emotions upon my simplicity--! I could hardly forgive you that."

He kept himself well in hand and even smiled again.

"You wrong me, Countess Strahni. I have spoken the truth."

"You cannot deny me the privilege of doubting you," she replied.

"What further proof would you have me give you that I am honest in my love for you?"

She pointed past the drawbridge along the causeway toward the valley below.

"Permit me to go--there--alone--tonight."

He laughed quietly.

"Alone? I do not know what danger may lurk in the valley. The fact that I wish to keep you here--is a better proof of my tenderness."

She turned away from him and leaned upon the wall. But to him at least she did not show fear.

"We cannot remain here indefinitely," she said coolly.

"Are you not comfortable? Is not everything provided for you? It has been my pride to make your convalescence agreeable in all ways," he said, leaning a little nearer to her. "I have tried to atone for the discomforts of your journey. Was it not my solicitude for your health which balked my own plans? You have questioned the truth of my professions, but you cannot deny the evidences of your safety."

Marishka was thinking quickly. Much as she abhorred the man, she realized that, if she were to have any chance of success she must meet him with weapons stronger than his own. And so she turned to him with a smile which concealed her growing terror.

"Herr Hauptmann, I do not wish you to think that I am ungrateful for the many indulgences that you have shown me. Your position has been a difficult one. But from the beginning we have been enemies----"

"Before the outbreak of the war--but allies now----"

"Not if you persist in your plan to carry me to Germany."

He asked her permission to smoke, and when she had granted it he went on coolly.

"Perhaps something may happen to prevent the execution of my plan," he said.

"What?" she stammered.

He searched her face eagerly for a moment.

"You may be sure, Countess Strahni," he said in a half-whisper, "that it is very painful to me that you should think of me as an enemy. Enemy I am not. It is my duty to take you to Germany, but it is very painful to me to do anything which makes you unhappy. Here, safe from detection, I am still doing my duty. And in remaining here you, too, are safe. Will you not try to be contented--to endure my society just for a little while? I want to show you that I can be as other men----"

She laughed to hide her fears.

"All men are alike where a woman is concerned--"

"Will you try? I will be your slave--your servant. Within the castle you may come and go as you please. No one shall approach you without your permission. You see, I am not an exacting jailer. All I ask is the hope of your friendship, a glimpse of your returning smile, and such companionship as you care to give me. It is not much. Do I not deserve it? _Bitte_, think a little."

Marishka gasped and fought the impulse to run from him, for his face was very near her shoulder, his voice very close to her ear.