French -- Germany -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English; Mystery fiction; Nobility -- Germany -- Fiction
"Madame," I said firmly, "I'll do anything your Highness wishes. I
understand your resolution. Indeed, I can only approve it. May I just
make two remarks? First, that it would be much better for me to come and
fetch you rather than that you should run the risk of meeting some one
in the corridors of the castle. In the second place, you should know
that the watch make their rounds at midnight. They may be a little early
tonight, and it is most advisable to avoid any chance of being disturbed
in so delicate an enterprise as ours."
"Very well," she said. "What then?"
"With your permission I'll be here at half-past ten. An hour will give
us plenty of time. Fräulein von Graffenfried can stay in your
apartments and receive any callers."
She smiled:
"If by that you mean Hagen, jealous young man, you may as well know that
he's due at his mess tonight, for one of those drinking-bouts for which
any good German would gladly sacrifice the Loreley."
"Hagen or another," I said, with a shade of irritation in my voice. "We
must provide for all emergencies."
"You're right, dear friend," she said gravely. "Then I'll expect you at
half-past ten."
* * * * * *
When I went back to my room after dinner I really thought the time to go
and fetch the Grand Duchess would never come.
At length ten o'clock struck, then quarter past. I went out quietly and
peeped through the library door. Good. There was no light. If Cyrus Beck
had unfortunately taken it into his head to work there that night we
should have had to begin all over again.
Half-past struck, but it took me barely two minutes to cut across the
garden. I wasn't late.
Very quietly I opened the door leading into the park. A puff of fresh
air braced me up.
As I was closing it again I started. A hand had just been placed on my
shoulder. At that moment I heard a voice:
"Professor Vignerte, I'm delighted to meet you!"
It was Lieutenant von Hagen.
The night was pitch-black, and we could not see each other. But I
thought I detected that the hand he had put on my shoulder was a little
unsteady. In an instant I recovered all my self-control.
"I thought you were at your mess," I said.
"I'm supposed to be," he replied. "But we all change our minds
sometimes. What about yourself? No doubt you intended to spend the
evening working in your room. Yet here you are."
"It's so stifling tonight," I said, "that I came into the garden for a
breath of air."
"In that case I don't suppose you'll mind having my company for your
walk."
This time I detected so much impertinent irony in his tone, that I saw
it was a case of putting all my cards on the table.
"I'm very much flattered by your attentions, Herr Lieutenant, but I
won't pretend that I wouldn't rather be alone."
He giggled. "_Quite_ alone?" he demanded.
A quarter to eleven had just struck. The sound made me furious. Was this
imbecile to wreck all our plans?
"What do you mean?" I asked angrily.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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