CHAPTER XXVII

"Wait!"

Out of the shadows came the whispered command. Marie staggered back against the wall with a stifled scream as she turned and looked into the face of the man she abhorred. He had thrown off all semblance of the servant and stood confronting her as she had known him in Vienna. In a swift vision, the months she had spent with him flashed by her. That night in the little beer hall when she had gone home with him; and that other night when he had laughed and told her just how little she had meant in his scheme of things. Why had he followed her? He had not wanted her enough to keep her with him always.

To Von Pfaffen, the sight of her when she had thrown back her veils, had been anything but pleasant. He had known for several days that the General's son was bringing his wife to the château, but he was not prepared for the overwhelming surprise to find that it was Marie. He saw at once that she recognized him and his first fear had been that she would betray him. But the moment passed, and she made no sign. He realized instantly that it was fear for herself that had kept her silent. His knowledge of the natural timidity of her nature, coupled with the power he had over her, led him to think out a plan that might put her presence here to his advantage. The deadly fear he saw in her face, as he accosted her now, pleased him. He knew that she was his to do with as he liked. She would prove a useful pawn in the game he was playing.

He reached to the step where she stood and seized her hand roughly.

"Hush," he whispered, "you will not betray me!"

Marie leaned away from him, looking into his eyes with terror.

"What are you doing here?" she breathed.

"You need not ask that! I'm here for my country!" he said proudly.

The meaning of his words dawned upon her slowly. So this was the interpretation of all those strange papers she had been forbidden to touch in Vienna, his secret journeys, his mysterious business! He was a spy! Why hadn't she realized this and screamed it out when she had faced him those few hours ago? They would have taken him away before he had a chance to tell; now it was too late.

He saw that she understood, and bowed coldly.

"Yes," he said, "and you?"

"I----" she faltered. "I am a daughter of the house!"

"You?" the contempt in his voice cut her like a lash, and blindly, she started up the stair again, but his fingers grasped her wrist.

"Wait!"

She turned and looked down at him where he stood on the step below.

"Would you be so welcome if they knew, do you think?" he sneered.

Marie cowered as though against a blow.

"You--you won't tell!" she whispered.

Von Pfaffen went on fiercely.

"Listen to me," he said, "there is something I must know, something for which I have taken their insolence, their patronage," he spat out the words, "but it is for the Fatherland! Your country, and mine! You must help me!"

The girl drew herself up proudly.

"My husband's country is my country," she said, "his people are my people. Let me pass!"

Von Pfaffen dropped her hand.

"Very well," he said slowly. "Then to-morrow I will go to your husband's people, your people, and tell them that the precious wife of their son and brother----" but the girl wheeled in terror:

"Oh, no," she said, "you won't do that, you can't!"

He smiled sardonically.

"I can and will," he said, "unless you do as I wish."

Marie turned toward him piteously.

"It--it would kill him," she pleaded. "They will disown me." Her husband's kiss was still warm on her lips. Would he love her if he knew? Could he?

The man watched her closely. He knew he had struck the right note. Nothing must stand in the way of his getting the information he sought.

"How proud they would be to welcome you as their daughter if they knew!" he went on cruelly.

Marie shuddered.

"You won't tell them," she whispered, "you can't!"

His brilliant eyes narrowed.

"Will you do what I ask?" he bargained, and as she looked into his face, the hard, cold face of the fanatic who would sacrifice everything, including himself, to gain his end, the girl knew that he held her in his grasp.

"What is it you want?" she murmured helplessly.

With a swift motion, he seized her wrist again and brought his face close to hers.

"Remember," and he almost hissed the words, "if you betray me, I'll give the proofs--I'll----"

"What do you want!" she asked miserably, "tell me, what do you want?"

Von Pfaffen drew her down and away from the stair. He looked about carefully, and then, sure that they were secure from interruption he began:

"There is to be an important conference here to-morrow," he said in quick, short tones, his voice scarcely above a whisper, "the General and others. They are to decide the time and place where an attack is to be launched; this much I know. You must get me the name of the town--the time."

"I can't--I can't," broke in Marie, horror of what he was asking her, searing her very soul. "I can't betray them, my husband's people!"

He tightened his fingers on her arm till the pain was almost unendurable.

"Would they think twice about you if I told them who you are? What you are?" he sneered.

She stared into his eyes, her own wide with terror.

"It would mean their ruin," she gasped, "perhaps death to my husband! I can't! I can't!"

"It means disgrace to you, and the death of his love if you don't."

Marie broke away from his hold and buried her face in her hands.

"Oh God," she moaned, "and I thought the door had been closed on that part of my life, forever."

Von Pfaffen was impatient.

"Quick," he said, "decide! We may be interrupted. Will you? Remember, I always keep my word. If you get this information, I promise in the name of my government, no one shall know your share in it. Will you? Will you?"

Her slender shoulders shook with the sobs that were breaking her.

"I can't! I can't!"

Was she going to fail him after all?

"Remember," his voice was softer, "it is your country asking this, your own country!"

"My country?" Marie raised her head. "This is my country!"

Von Pfaffen looked at her with hatred in his eyes. This weak little creature, was she going to be the stumbling-block in the great work he was doing?

"Do you realize what it means if you refuse!" he asked coldly.

She knew, alas! she knew only too well what it would mean, not only to her, but to the little life she carried under her heart, the little, new life, that God himself had given into her keeping. It might cost that as well as the love of its father.

"Let me think," she gasped.

Von Pfaffen was quick to see his advantage.

"Get your husband to tell you," he said eagerly. "He will. Write the name of the place and the time where the attack is to be made, on a piece of paper. Put it where I can get it!"

Marie looked about her wildly.

"Where, where?" she asked, bewildered.

The man's face was glowing with the success of his plan.

"You'll find a place," he told her eagerly, "and a way to let me know. That is all. I promise your secret dies with me. I am the only one who knows. Young Franz was killed at the Marne. There is no one else."

Marie covered her face with her hands, but he drew them away and made her look at him.

"I can trust you?" he said, his eyes narrow, his thin mouth set and cruel, "you won't play me false? If you do, remember, it is the end of your happiness forever!"

"Yes," she said dully. "I know. I'll--I'll do it!"

With a sigh of relief, the man dropped her hands, and after a moment, she turned and went slowly up the stair. Her heart seemed dead in her bosom, her eyes were dry and burning. She clung to the balustrade with the dizziness that threatened to engulf her.

Von Pfaffen stood and watched her till she had disappeared, then he turned out the lights and softly left the hall, a smile of triumph on his lean, hard face.