then she asked suddenly, "Where is the Count of Luzau-Rischenheim?"
I told her how Bernenstein kept guard over the Count in the room at the back of the house. She seemed to consider for a moment, then she said, "I will see him. Go and bring him to me. You must be here while I talk to him, but nobody else."
I did not know what she intended, but I saw no reason to oppose her wishes, and I was glad to find for her any means of employing this time of suspense. I obeyed her commands and brought Rischenheim to her. He followed me slowly and reluctantly; his unstable mind had again jumped from rashness to despondency: he was pale and uneasy, and, when he found himself in her presence, the bravado of his bearing, maintained before Bernenstein, gave place to a shamefaced sullenness. He could not meet the grave eyes that she fixed on him.
I withdrew to the farther end of the room; but it was small, and I heard all that passed. I had my revolver ready to cover Rischenheim in case he should be moved to make a dash for liberty. But he was past that; Rupert's presence was a tonic that nerved him to effort and confidence, but the force of the last dose was gone and the man had sunk again to his natural irresolution.
"My lord," she began gently, motioning him to sit, "I have desired to speak with you,
