My Friend the ChauffeurWilliamson, C. N. (Charles Norris)
General
My Friend the Chauffeur
Williamson, C. N. (Charles Norris)
Automobiles -- Fiction; Europe -- Fiction; Voyages and travels -- Fiction
I stood aside to let Aunt Kathryn pass in before me, which she did
without a word. We both stood before the fire, holding out gloved hands
to the meagre blaze, while little Airole ran about, whimpering and
examining everything with unconcealed disapproval.
I had just time to notice how oddly shabby Aunt Kathryn's gloves were,
and to wonder if she didn't intend to take off the "mushroom" (the talc
window of which the firelight transformed into a pane of red glass),
when Prince Dalmar-Kalm appeared. Without asking permission he walked
in, and looking at Aunt Kathryn, said in French, "You may go,
Victorine."
I stared, as bewildered as if the unfamiliar scene were turning to a
dream; but as the cloaked and mushroomed figure reached the door, the
spell broke.
I took a step after it, exclaiming, "Aunt Kathryn--Kittie!"
The door shut almost in my face. "That is not your Aunt Kathryn," said
the Prince, in a voice which, though low, vibrated with excitement. "It
is one of the Contessa Corramini's servants, chosen to play this part
because her figure is enough like your aunt's to resemble it closely in
a motor-coat. All that is of your aunt is that coat, the hat, the mask
of silk. You must hear the truth now, for it is time, and know what you
have to face."
"I don't understand you," I stammered weakly. It was more than ever as
if I were in a dream. I actually told myself that I would wake up in bed
at the Hotel Imperial in Ragusa. And oh, how I wished that I would wake
soon!
"I will _make_ you understand," went on the Prince. "You know--you've
known for many days--how I love you. You have forced me to do this
thing, because you were obstinate, and would not give me yourself,
though I could not live without you. Because I could not, I have done
this. It was planned as long ago as Venice. I confided all to Corramini,
though not to his wife, and he promised to help me because he is in
money difficulties, and I agreed to do something for him. But if you had
been kind last night in Ragusa, when I gave you one more chance to
repent, you might have been spared this. It was only to happen if all
else failed."
"Still I don't understand," I said slowly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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