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 THE COUNTESS DIANE 
 
 UNIT. OF CAUF. LIBRARY. LOS ANGELE9
 
 T>A; 
 
 HOW DO I LOOK:- SMK ASKK1V
 
 iane> 
 
 If&istrations &Decoratiops 
 
 Grosset & Dunlap 
 
 Publishers
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY 
 THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY 
 DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 
 
 Published, October, 1908
 
 Stack 
 
 Annex 
 
 PS 
 
 35-35 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 .. . 
 
 How do I look? she asked" Frontispiece 
 
 Deane facing page 34 
 
 Kharkof " 102 
 
 Smallej 130
 
 OT far from the point of Mous- 
 
 \7 terlin, which is west of Beg-Meil, 
 
 there lies a stretch of Breton beach 
 
 which the summer folk have not 
 
 yet invaded. It is a wild and romantic strip 
 
 of rock and sand with low, tumbling cliffs 
 
 inclosing sheltered coves no bigger than the 
 
 inside of a church. Behind the cliffs and, 
 
 in places, coming down to the sea itself, are 
 
 the fertile farm lands, dotted with orchards 
 
 and cut with deep, winding lanes fringed 
 
 with double rows of pollards. 
 
 There are some quaint old farms along 
 this beach; buildings of solid granite and 
 built ever with an eye to strong defense, with 
 battlemented roofs and embrasures for bow 
 or harquebus. It was such an old place that 
 Mr. Archibald Bower Deane, an American 
 by birth and an artist by alleged occupation, 
 had rented for a span of years as a sort of 
 refuge to which he might retreat for the 
 simple life when overworked by a tempestu 
 ous season in Paris, Nice or Monte Carlo. 

 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 As a matter of fact, his Breton farm was 
 the only place in which Deane ever really 
 worked, and his output from there had been 
 considerable and meritorious. He had con 
 verted to his own use two of the outbuild 
 ings, one as a studio and the other to live in ; 
 the rest of the farm he turned over to an old 
 peasant couple, with a large and robust fam 
 ily of red-cheeked girls, who farmed the 
 place to their profit and catered to the sim 
 ple wants of Mr. Deane. It was not a busi 
 nesslike arrangement, but, none the less, was 
 quite satisfactory to all concerned. 
 
 For almost a year Mr. Deane had not vis 
 ited his farm, having been in America to 
 vote, as he told his friends ; therefore, imag 
 ine his rage and dismay on returning in July 
 to find, about half a mile below his beach, 
 reared on the edge of the sand-dunes, a new 
 and singularly ugly villa of the hideous 
 modern French type, glittering with blatant 
 faience tiles of every color that was bad! 
 Lank and tall and angular, this architectural 
 atrocity reared its painted iron crest from 
 the soft, rolling sand-hills like some uncouth 
 beast which had alighted from another 
 
 2
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 world. To make matters worse, the misshapen 
 thing seemed penned within a wall of sand 
 and cement, plastered with dirty shells and 
 capped by a chevaux-de-frise of bottle-glass. 
 Whether the object of this wall was to pre 
 vent those within from getting out or those 
 without from getting in was the only inter 
 esting feature of the whole establishment, 
 and even that seemed easy to answer. One 
 could not conceive of any desire to get in; 
 the outside was sufficient. 
 
 When Deane first set eyes upon his neigh 
 bor he stopped dead in his tracks and stared, 
 for the moment quite deprived of speech. 
 Then, slowly and sincerely, with classic Eng 
 lish words he consigned himself to everlast 
 ing torment. 
 
 " Whee, M sieu ! " said Corentine, one of 
 the buxom farm girls, who was swinging 
 easily along with Deane s trunk upon her 
 head. "Is it not a beautiful house! Never 
 I have seen such colors! " 
 
 "Nor I," said Deane solemnly. "Who 
 did it?" 
 
 " It is the property of Per Guillenec, who 
 owns all of the land toward Benodet, and it 
 
 4
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 is the design of his son, Ba zour, who has 
 been studying in architecture." 
 
 " It looks it," said Deane. So great was 
 his disgust that for the moment he was half 
 minded to leave his luggage unpacked and 
 return to Paris the following day. 
 
 " Of course, no one lives there," he ob 
 served to the peasant girl. It seemed to the 
 artist as if a hungry dog would flee howling 
 at the sight of the house. 
 
 " Mais whee , M sieu" The fresh-cheeked 
 Corentine turned and smiled at him from 
 beneath the trunk. "M sieu will have 
 neighbors, but it is true that so far one has 
 seen little of them. There are four: old 
 M sieu , a man older even than Per Guille- 
 nec, and old Madame; then there is an old 
 man-servant and " Corentine s dark eyes 
 sparkled mischievously " the beautiful 
 young lady." 
 
 " The what? " demanded Deane, holding 
 the door of his cottage open for the girl to 
 pass through. 
 
 "Hu it" Corentine swung down the 
 heavy trunk as lightly as if it had been a 
 sack of grain, straightened her back, threw 
 
 4
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 out her bosom, and placing her hands on her 
 hips looked at the master and laughed. 
 
 "Gaste! M sieu is interested!" She 
 nodded her coiffed head until the frills 
 shook. " Whee there is a very beautiful 
 young lady but one seldom sees her be 
 cause she goes out only very early and again 
 at twilight, but"- she laughed again "she 
 is never unattended. It is a pity! Shall I 
 unpack M sieu s trunk?" 
 
 Yes. What makes you think that this 
 young lady must be beautiful, Corentine? 
 Because she is so hard to see?" 
 
 "Ah, M sieu , I have seen her three times 
 la-la-la what pretty, new shirts has 
 M sieu and her eyes are like the sea when 
 it is growing dark, a blue that is almost black 
 and M sieu s new stockings; la-la they 
 are all of silk? Whee, and the young lady s 
 lips are very red and she has a great many 
 very white teeth. Then her hair is like the 
 copper we boil the chestnuts in and far 
 longer than mine and nobody knows better 
 than M sieu himself the thickness of my 
 hair!" Corentine tossed her pretty head. 
 Deane had once succeeded in posing her un- 
 
 5
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 coiifed, a great concession for a Bretonne, 
 and the girl had always pretended to resent 
 it. " Gaste!" she continued, "the hair of 
 Mademoiselle is to my hair like a shower of 
 gold to a horse s tail!" 
 
 The following morning Deane passed the 
 new house on his way down the beach. At 
 close range it seemed to him even uglier, if 
 such a thing were possible ; moreover, it pre 
 sented that expression of sullen aloofness 
 peculiar to some houses just as it is to the 
 people who are apt to live in them. A ship 
 wrecked mariner dragging himself out of 
 the brine at its gates would never have 
 rapped upon them to ask for succor. There 
 was also to the place an air of covert watch 
 fulness; with shutters half closed it looked 
 like a painted woman peering under lowered 
 eyelids, while its extreme height gave the 
 air of being on tiptoes in an effort to survey 
 the surrounding country from the shelter of 
 its hideous wall. 
 
 No sign of life came from any part of it 
 until Deane was abreast of the gate, the 
 grille of which was open, permitting a vista 
 
 of hot inclosure. Then through the silent, 
 
 6
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 blazing sunlight came the deep-toned notes 
 of a striking clock; eleven times it struck, 
 slowly, mournfully, and the last tone was 
 dissolved in a silence which contrasted gro 
 tesquely with the brightness of the morning, 
 the vivid colors of sea and sky and shore, 
 and the clear notes of the snipe and curlew 
 circling the marsh. 
 
 A week or two passed, and Deane, in the 
 interest of his work, grew indifferent to his 
 ugly neighbor. Sometimes, when he went 
 down to the sea for his morning dip not too 
 late, he w r ould catch a glimpse of figures on 
 the beach toward Benodet, but his absorp 
 tion in a water-color which he was doing of 
 Corentine en sardiniere quite obliterated all 
 thought of his neighbors. 
 
 One day he received a note from a fellow- 
 painter at Beg-Meil asking him to go over 
 and criticise some of his recent work. Deane, 
 feeling the need of a relaxation, put away 
 his painting things and started up the beach 
 on his long walk to the place, which from 
 being originally a sort of artistic Arcady 
 had developed into a summer resort. On his 
 arrival, hot and tired and thirsty, Deane was 
 
 .71
 
 TJie Countess Diane 
 
 somewhat disgusted to discover that his col 
 league had gone to Concarneau for the day, 
 taking the key to his studio with him. He 
 dropped into a chair at one of the little ta 
 bles on the terrace garden, and had just 
 given his order when his name was joyously 
 shouted from somewhere above his head, and 
 looking up he discovered, leaning over the 
 railing of a balcony to the infinite danger of 
 diving on to the table, his most intimate 
 friend and playmate, Mr. Samuel Smalley, 
 of New York and Paris. 
 
 " Hello, Sam ! " called Mr< Deane, instinc 
 tively edging from under. " Come down by 
 the stairs there s lots of time." 
 
 Mr. Smalley quickly complied, and a mo 
 ment later was sitting opposite his friend. 
 
 "What are you doing down here, Sam?" 
 inquired Mr. Deane. 
 
 " Oh, just riding around on the car and 
 looking for trouble. I came to this place 
 especially to hunt for you." 
 
 "I do not care for the implied associa 
 tion," observed Deane. " What do you plan, 
 now that you have found me ? " 
 
 " A whirl along the Cote d Emeraud ; Di- 
 8
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 nan and Dinard and St. Malo and the 
 Mount. Afterward Trouville if there s 
 anything left." 
 
 "Of what? Trouville or ourselves? 
 Whom have you with you?" 
 
 " No one but an ass of a chauffeur I im 
 ported from England. I don t dare let him 
 drive, because in a tight place he always 
 turns to the left. All of my friends are 
 either dead, married or working. Pack up 
 a bag and come along. There s a good 
 chap." 
 
 "Very well," answered Mr. Deane, who 
 required but little time to resolve upon a 
 change of scene. " Come over and stop the 
 night with me and we will talk it over and 
 map out our route. There are a lot of peo 
 ple we know at Dinan: Jim Cutting and 
 Schuyler and Randal, and all that crowd." 
 
 " We ll look em up, God bless em! " said 
 Mr. Smalley. 
 
 The two friends went out to the garage, 
 where they found the chauffeur leaning 
 upon the hood of the motor, smoking, and 
 talking Cockney French to one of the maids. 
 If any work had been done upon the car, a 
 
 9 

 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 big 50-horse-power touring car, it was not 
 apparent. 
 
 " Fill the tanks, then crank up and get in 
 behind!" commanded Mr. Smalley, and the 
 chauffeur, being far from home and in a 
 foreign land, obeyed without remark. Smal 
 ley stepped into the office to settle his ac 
 count. 
 
 "You know the road and you know the 
 car, Archie," he said as he came out. " Get 
 in and drive." 
 
 Deane obeyed with a thrill of pleasure; he 
 took considerable pride in the skill with 
 which he handled his friends cars, and there 
 fore he was especially annoyed at what im 
 mediately followed. The gate of the yard 
 opened upon the road at right angles, a high 
 wall hiding anything which might be passing 
 from either direction, so Deane started out 
 on his low speed, horning vigorously as he 
 reached the gate. But before the blare had 
 ceased, a big limousine car, running silently 
 as a watch, swung in from the road directly 
 upon them. 
 
 The driver was quick as he was reckless; 
 like a flash he threw on his emergency brake 
 
 10
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 and at the same time swerved sharply in an 
 effort to cross the road ahead of Deane and 
 go into the wall, which would have given him 
 another few metres in which to stop. Deane 
 had, of course, braked and would have es 
 caped all injury had not the other man, ap 
 parently fearing a skid which would smash 
 him against the other car broadside on, 
 swung sharply back again. He was almost 
 at a stop, however, and his big machine slid 
 gently against the other car; there was a 
 crash, a slight jar, and at the same moment 
 Deane, who had reversed as quickly as was 
 possible, backed slowly away and stopped. 
 As he did so he observed that the crash had 
 come from the lens of one of the other car s 
 acetylene lights, and at the same time he 
 saw that a large triangular chunk had 
 been gouged from the shoe of its left front 
 tire. 
 
 The next instant the two young men were 
 treated to an interesting exhibition of Slavic 
 temper. The man driving was a bearded in 
 dividual of enormous physique, very evi 
 dently a Russian noble, while beside him sat 
 apparently his chauffeur, a small man of 
 
 11
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 Slavic features, which were for the moment 
 blanched with terror. The big man swung 
 quickly down from behind the steering- 
 wheel and stepped in front of his damaged 
 car. No word escaped his lips, but the two 
 men could see the gleam of his teeth through 
 his bristling beard, while his small, blue eyes 
 were dancing and twinkling like those of a 
 bear rearing itself to strike, and there was 
 an odd, gurgling noise coming from deep in 
 his throat. 
 
 He glanced at the broken lamp, jerked a 
 hanging fragment from the tear in the tire, 
 which was still inflated, then, still in the same 
 ominous and potential silence, he turned and 
 stared at his trembling chauffeur, who had 
 jumped down and was standing beside the 
 motor. 
 
 "Well idiot!" snarled the big man in 
 French. " Why did you not horn? " 
 
 The man shrank back. " I did not know 
 ,that Monsieur was going to turn in," he 
 stammered. 
 
 The words had no sooner left the man s 
 lips than his master s great fist flew out, 
 striking him heavily in the face. Backward 
 
 12
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 went the chauffeur across the motor-hood; 
 then as he struggled to regain his feet his 
 master struck him again a swinging blow, 
 and would no doubt have repeated it if Mr. 
 Smalley had not slipped down from his seat 
 and seized him by the shoulder. 
 
 "That s enough!" he cried in French. 
 " Do you want to kill the man? " 
 
 The Russian turned upon him with the 
 growl of a trapped grizzly. With one sweep 
 of his great arm he swept the young man 
 aside and then, stepping forward, struck at 
 him savagely. It was an unscientific blow, 
 such as might be dealt by a gorilla: a blow 
 dealt downward and inward with the inside 
 of the fist. Smalley saw it coming and 
 sprang back; then before the Russian could 
 recover his poise he stepped quickly forward 
 and with all of the force and accuracy of a 
 trained boxer he placed so solid an uppercut 
 on the base of the heavy jaw that, massive 
 as was the anatomy of the Russian, the shock 
 staggered him. He reeled, tottered, then sat 
 with a thud on the road. 
 
 "My h eyel" cried Smalley s cockney 
 from the tonneau. " That were a sleepin 
 
 13
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 powder for is w iskers! Ook im in the 
 h eye when e gets is legs, sir ! " 
 
 Mr. Smalley looked toward his friend and 
 grinned. The big Russian was still resting 
 in the middle of the road. 
 
 "I suppose I ought to wait for his 
 card- 
 
 You get back in the car as quick as you 
 can!" answered Deane. "Do you want to 
 get mixed up in a proces-verbal and spend 
 the next six weeks in this hole? Hurry, be 
 fore he finds out what hit him!" 
 
 Somewhat reluctantly Mr. Smalley 
 stepped aboard his car, Deane threw in the 
 clutch, and a moment later they were hum 
 ming down the road. 
 
 You may be a millionaire, Sam," ob 
 served his friend, "but you are not rich 
 enough to afford slugging people here in 
 France. I once boxed the ears of a hotel- 
 keeper ; it did him no harm and me no good, 
 but it cost fifteen hundred francs." 
 
 " Yes," assented Mr. Smalley, " I should 
 have kicked him. That is much less expen 
 sive." 
 
 The big car quickly devoured the distance 
 14
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 to Deane s farm. As it was still early in the 
 afternoon the host suggested to his friend 
 that they go for a swim. There was a little 
 cove some distance down the beach where 
 Deane sometimes went to sketch, and there 
 he proposed that they should bathe. To get 
 there it was necessary to pass the new villa, 
 and as they drew abreast of the ugly edifice 
 Mr. Smalley paused and contemplated it 
 long and curiously. 
 
 ; That is, without exception, the very 
 worst that I have ever seen! " said he. " Do 
 the inhabitants look like it?" 
 
 " Corentine tells me that there is a beauti 
 ful young lady, with eyes like the sea when 
 it grows dark, hair like a shower of gold, and 
 a great many very white teeth," answ r ered 
 Deane; "but, as Corentine also greatly ad 
 mires the house, I have not allowed myself 
 to become excited." 
 
 They resumed their walk along the beach. 
 Presently Mr. Smalley raised his eyes from 
 a scrutiny of the sand. 
 
 "Does the beautiful young lady ever 
 paddle about barefooted? " he asked with 
 interest. 
 
 15
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "I do not know," answered Deane. He 
 glanced down and saw some imprints on the 
 sand. "Do you think that you have struck 
 her trail?" 
 
 " That is in my mind," admitted Smalley. 
 "There has been a barefooted young lady 
 along this beach not more than fifteen min 
 utes ago. The tide is falling and you can 
 see that these tracks are not far from the 
 water s edge." 
 
 Deane paused and examined the foot 
 prints carefully. 
 
 " Those were made by a child," he ob 
 served. 
 
 " You are a poor tracker," said Smalley. 
 "These are not the footprints of a child; 
 they are the footprints of a young and beau 
 tiful woman with long, bare legs ! " 
 
 Deane regarded his friend with skeptic 
 irony. " Why long and bare? " he asked. 
 
 You are more at home on the Champs 
 filysees than you would be on the trail, 
 Archie," observed Mr. Smalley with conde 
 scension. " Now, I am a hunter a tracker. 
 If you look here where the sand is firm you 
 will see that between the heel and the ball of 
 
 16
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 the foot it has not been touched. A child s 
 foot would have made a flatter and wider 
 print. Now in regard to the legs; my own 
 are fairly long and unhampered by skirts, 
 yet walking naturally these prints are spaced 
 as far apart as mine are." 
 
 Mr. Deane regarded his friend with grow 
 ing admiration. 
 
 "What was she thinking about when she 
 passed here, Sam? " he inquired respectfully. 
 
 " She was thinking of you." 
 
 "Of me! How nice of her ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Smalley excitedly, " and 
 I can prove it! Every few metres she has 
 looked back over her shoulder her right 
 shoulder. See where she has toed in with 
 her left foot? She was probably afraid that 
 you might see her and follow her." 
 
 "Get out!" said Deane resentfully; nev 
 ertheless he studied the small, dainty prints 
 with a curious excitement. 
 
 " She s run away that s what she s 
 done! " he announced. " Corentine said that 
 she never went out unattended. I ll bet the 
 poor girl has played hookey and gone off 
 for a little lark all by herself! * 
 
 17
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 Suddenly the footprints vanished, the girl 
 having apparently waded in the shallow 
 water. 
 
 Deane felt sorry in a vague sort of 
 way. There had been for him something 
 pleasing and pathetic in the mute compan 
 ionship of the dainty little prints which 
 looked so very much alone upon that wild 
 and desolate strip of beach. 
 
 When presently the prints emerged again, 
 dropping apparently from the sky, he was 
 quite delighted. 
 
 "Maybe they were left by an angel," he 
 observed. 
 
 " Perhaps," assented Smalley. " Some 
 times they are. Whatever she is, I ll bet 
 that we find her behind those rocks just 
 ahead." 
 
 " That is where I had planned to bathe," 
 said Deane ; " but if she is there we will make 
 a detour so as not to disturb her. Think 
 what it must be, Sam, for a girl to be penned 
 up in a coop like that thing we passed. If 
 she s given her keepers the slip we don t 
 want to spoil her little fun." 
 
 "All right," replied Smalley. "We will 
 IS
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 go up quietly, and, if she is there, clear out 
 without letting her see us." 
 
 They quietly approached the ledge of rock 
 which shut off all view of the beach ahead. 
 Deane was leading the way through a fissure 
 in the cliff, when suddenly he stopped and 
 raised a warning hand. 
 
 Less than ten paces from them was a 
 young girl intently absorbed in digging in 
 the sand for echille. She was apparently a 
 very young girl, not over eighteen years, 
 but tall and with the strong, graceful figure 
 of one of Diana s wood-nymphs. She wore 
 a quaint, old-fashioned Empire gown, short- 
 sleeved, and with the skirt pinned up above 
 her round, dimpled knees. From where they 
 stood the two men saw her in profile ; a face 
 flushed and eager beneath a great, tumbled 
 mass of golden-copper hair which was 
 caught up in a loose knot and held by a black 
 velvet ribbon. Beneath were a retrousse 
 nose, a very flushed cheek, red lips tightly 
 compressed from her exertions, and a small, 
 firm chin. Even as they looked she threw 
 one of the slippery little fish up on the tip 
 of her pointed spade, and then there was a 
 
 19
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 frantic scramble which ended in her catching 
 it before it could dart away beneath the sur 
 face of the wet sand. With flashing smile 
 of triumph she dropped it into her tiny 
 bucket, and Deane thought of Corentine s 
 description of the " great many very white 
 teeth." 
 
 He reached behind him, prodded his 
 friend, and the two backed noiselessly out 
 the way they had entered. 
 
 " Corentine was right," said Smalley, as 
 they headed for the sand-dunes to make a 
 detour of the cove. " Prettiest girl that ever 
 / saw." 
 
 You can never think of anything but a 
 girl s looks, Sam," said Deane reprovingly. 
 " What impressed me was the pathos of the 
 picture that lovely girl having such a glo 
 rious time all alone there on this desolate 
 beach! Think of a splendid young creature 
 like that being penned up in that vile mus 
 tard-box back there! Did you see her smile 
 when she caught that wretched little fish? 
 Did you ever see such color in a woman s 
 hair? and such a ravishing profile? And 
 speaking from a purely professional point 
 
 20
 
 The Countess Diane 
 of view, if I could get her on a can- 
 
 vas- 
 
 "And yet," interrupted Mr. Smalley, 
 " what appealed to you, Archie, was the pa 
 thos of the girl, not her beauty." 
 
 " Well, isn t it pathetic to think of such a 
 lovely girl having such a ripping good time 
 doing what would bore most women to 
 death? Allalone- 
 
 You keep dwelling so much on her lone 
 liness," interrupted Mr. Smalley, "that I 
 should think that you would go and join 
 her." 
 
 " I would not run the risk of spoiling one 
 happy hour of hers for any selfish reason, 
 Sam," said Deane moodily; "but" he 
 brightened " I suppose that it would 
 be only civil for me to go and call some 
 time." 
 
 "We might go to-night," suggested 
 Smalley. " She might not be here when you 
 get back from your tour with me." 
 
 Deane looked extremely uncomfortable. 
 
 "I am afraid that I was a bit hasty in 
 agreeing to take this trip with you, Sam," 
 said he. " To tell the truth, I have really no 
 
 21
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 right to go. I really ought to make a stab 
 at the Salon this year if I am ever going to." 
 
 " All right," said Smalley, so readily that 
 Deane looked at him with suspicion. " Stay 
 here, if you would rather and I say, if you 
 don t mind, I believe I d like to stop with 
 you for a bit. There is a great deal about 
 this place which appeals to me." 
 
 He looked thoughtfully toward the cove 
 which they had just left. 
 
 " You are always to consider my house as 
 your home, Sam," answered Deane; "but I 
 am afraid that you would find it very dull. 
 I am quite a different person when I get 
 down seriously to work ; scarcely have a word 
 to say." 
 
 Mr. Smalley grinned, but did not reply, 
 and the two friends, making a detour be 
 yond the head of the cove, struck the beach 
 below, and were soon romping like two por 
 poises far out in the blue, sparkling water. 
 
 As they were dressing there came to them, 
 borne faintly on the breeze, the noise of a 
 rapidly-running motor. 
 
 " That s funny," said Deane. " Could we 
 hear your car at this distance?" 
 
 22
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "We might, but " Smalley pricked up 
 his ears and listened " that does not sound 
 to me like my car. Is there a road near us? " 
 
 " There is a broad lane which comes down 
 to the beach from the Benodet Road, but 
 the only ones to use it are the people in that 
 new house. No one would drive a car there, 
 especially as one must wade through two 
 feet of water to cross the lagoon back of the 
 beach. It doesn t matter with a horse and 
 cart, but the salt water would not do any 
 good to machinery." 
 
 "Listen!" cried Smalley, raising one 
 hand. "Did you hear that?" 
 
 " The engine is slowing 
 
 " No, starting that is, he just threw in 
 his clutch; but that is not what I meant. 
 I thought that I heard a cry a scream." 
 
 " I heard that. It was a gull." 
 
 Mr. Smalley shook his head. " It did not 
 sound to me like a gull but it was so far 
 away Come on; are you ready?" 
 
 They started back along the edge of the 
 beach. The tide was far out, the sun was 
 getting low, and its vivid, slanting rays 
 struck the glistening expanse of wet sand 
 
 23
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 and painted it in varying opalescent hues. 
 Beyond was the white zone of breaking 
 wavelets, for the sea was still, then a broad 
 band of deepest blue, dotted in the distance 
 by the many-colored sails of the returning 
 fishing fleet, beating up to Concarneau 
 against the faint land-breeze. 
 
 "I suppose that our little friend has 
 gone," observed Smalley. " It must be get 
 ting late " He stopped suddenly in his 
 
 tracks. 
 
 " I heard it that time! " said Deane, look 
 ing uneasily at his friend; "and it was a 
 scream! There goes that blooming motor 
 again! What do you suppose the fellow 
 is trying to do?" 
 
 They listened for a moment while the 
 sounds of the rapidly running car became 
 fainter and fainter, died quite away, re 
 turned again, then were swallowed up in the 
 distance. 
 
 " He s driving fast " began Mr. Smal 
 ley, when Deane interrupted him. 
 
 "There s something about it I don t 
 
 like " he began nervously. Smalley 
 
 looked at him in surprise. 
 
 24
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "About what what do you mean?" 
 
 " Oh I don t know. The whole thing. 
 That girl out on this wild beach all alone, 
 then that motor buzzing around where no 
 motor has ever been before and the 
 scream He started to trot up the 
 
 beach. Smalley, with a glance of startled 
 comprehension, fell in beside him. 
 
 They passed between the sea and the cove, 
 now empty, where they had seen the girl, 
 and then upon the other side they picked up 
 her returning trail. All at once Smalley, 
 who was looking ahead, gripped Deane by 
 the arm. 
 
 "What s that?" he asked, pointing to an 
 object lying on the sand. 
 
 "Her spade!" cried Deane, and a thrill 
 of alarm rippled through him. " She must 
 have thrown it aside!" He looked inquir 
 ingly at his friend. 
 
 " She began to run here," said Smalley. 
 He stopped and examined the prints care 
 fully. You see, here she stopped to look 
 over there"- he pointed toward the sand- 
 dunes flanking the beach " then she turned 
 and dug out as hard as she could go." He 
 
 25
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 trotted ahead on the girl s widely-spaced 
 prints. "Here it occurred to her to throw 
 away her ecMlle spade keep right on with 
 this trail, Archie; I want to look higher up 
 on the beach ! " 
 
 With an ugly sense of apprehension 
 Deane continued on the girl s trail. A shout 
 from Smalley warned him that something 
 had been discovered, and glancing in his di 
 rection Deane saw with a growing alarm 
 that his friend was running another trail 
 which converged to meet that made by the 
 girl. Closer together they came, then sud 
 denly, when less than a half-dozen paces 
 apart, the girl s tracks turned sharply and 
 made for the water. There were a few 
 washed imprints at what had been the water s 
 edge, then they ceased entirely, nor were 
 there any more in sight. Just above them 
 the other tracks disappeared in the same 
 manner. 
 
 Deane stared at his friend with a white 
 face. The whole story of the pursuit was up 
 to this point so obvious; then, at the crucial 
 moment, when the pursuer was closing in 
 upon his desperate quarry, the calm, in 
 scrutable sea had silently effaced all records. 
 
 26
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " Look here, Archie! " called Mr. Smalley. 
 " What do you make of this? " 
 
 Deane hurried to the spot and studied the 
 big, square-toed footprints which were cut 
 sharply and clearly in the firm sand. 
 
 " It was a big man -" he began slowly, 
 but Smalley interrupted: 
 
 "A very big man! Compare his tracks 
 with mine. The foot is half again as big and 
 it has sunk twice as deeply, and the sand 
 was firmer then than it is now that it has 
 dried out a bit more!" 
 
 "And to think," groaned Deane, "that 
 we were almost within hail! We were 
 within hail, but were probably splashing 
 around in the water when this was going on! 
 Come on let s see where they came out!" 
 They started up the beach on a run. " I 
 think," panted Smalley, " that the girl was 
 running in the shallow water, because the 
 footing was a little firmer see these grooves 
 yes " 
 
 There they are, just ahead!" said 
 Deane. 
 
 Apparently from nowhere came the broad, 
 deep footprints of the pursuer, sharply de 
 fined, deep, and spaced as in walking slowly. 
 
 27
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 But the barefooted prints of the girl were 
 nowhere to be seen. 
 
 Deane stared at his friend with a white 
 face and eyes big with horror. Here came 
 the trail of the pursuer straight from the 
 sea and up across the beach in the direction 
 of the sand-dunes. 
 
 The unswerving track had an expression 
 of cold finality, of the chase being finished 
 beyond the need of further eif ort, the quarry 
 either escaped or destroyed and the hunter 
 betaking himself away. Deane glanced out 
 to sea and shivered. The water was getting 
 darker; the bright yellows and reds and 
 browns of the sails of the sardiniers glowed 
 out against a lee set of gray cloud-bank. 
 The late summer sun was nearing the edge 
 of a far-distant point. 
 
 " Could he have drowned her or perhaps 
 she drowned herself swam far out rather 
 
 than be taken " Deane began huskily. 
 
 He turned and started to run up the 
 beach. 
 
 "Come back, my son!" called Mr. Smal- 
 ley. "You will not find her trail up 
 there!" 
 
 28
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 Why not?" asked Deane, pausing. 
 
 "Because he s carrying her! 11 
 
 "What? 33 
 
 " Sure of it! See the way he has gouged 
 up the sand? Come on we can soon tell. 
 She was a big girl wasn t she? " 
 
 " A very big girl," said Deane. 
 
 They turned and hurried off on the new 
 scent. Straight up it went, over the sand- 
 dunes, plowing through the tough grass up 
 the steep incline with its heavy, shifting 
 foothold. 
 
 "Oh, come!" cried Deane despairingly. 
 " No man living could carry that girl over 
 a place like this without setting her down 
 to rest." 
 
 Smalley looked doubtful, then shook his 
 head. 
 
 This was a very powerful man," he said. 
 "In fact" a peculiar note crept into his 
 voice " I have seen but one man in France 
 who impressed me as being capable of such 
 a feat of strength!" He threw a sidelong 
 glance at his friend. Deane s gray eyes 
 opened very wide. 
 
 "That Russian!" 
 
 29
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "Yes. Come on; we can soon tell." 
 
 "And the automobile we heard!" cried 
 Deane. " He is heading for the place where 
 that lane comes out!" 
 
 They dashed ahead, following the trail as 
 it crossed a sandy, thistle-covered stretch 
 heading for the lagoon, which was now bare, 
 the tide being low. Here the tracks dis 
 appeared again, the man having waded. On 
 the far side they reappeared, and there also, 
 as they had expected, they found the hard 
 sand gouged by the wheels of an automobile. 
 The car had backed and turned, the driver 
 taking care not to run it into the salt water, 
 and the space for this manoeuvre had been 
 limited, as was shown by the zigzags where 
 he had started and reversed. 
 
 You are right, Sam," observed Deane, 
 as he studied the markings. " It is the Rus 
 sian." He pointed to a raised, triangular 
 elevation in the track of one of the wheels. 
 "He took that chunk out on our front 
 spring or crank or something. Now if we 
 could only be sure about the girl ! " His eyes 
 examined minutely all of the details of the 
 
 30
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 place, and as they did so fell upon a small, 
 black object hanging from a thistle. With 
 a quick thrill he stooped to examine it, and 
 his heart gave a mighty thump as he dis 
 covered it to be the black velvet hair-ribbon 
 worn by the girl. 
 
 "A straight case of abduction! " observed 
 Mr. Smalley, as he turned the ribbon in his 
 hand. "Now what?" 
 
 "We must let her people know," said 
 Deane. " There is evidently something be 
 hind it all some reason or motive beyond 
 mere kidnaping. No doubt she was kept 
 here in hiding from this animal." 
 
 "Perhaps he is her husband," suggested 
 Mr. Smalley with malice. 
 
 "Don t be an ass, Sam," retorted Deane 
 sharply. "Any one could see at a glance 
 at her face that the girl is a perfect innocent. 
 What do you want to suggest horrors like 
 that for, anyway?" 
 
 " As a possible motive. Perhaps he only 
 wants to marry her to somebody else." 
 
 " I don t see why you should have to harp 
 so on the marriage idea," said Deane irri- 
 
 31
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 tably. "It s much more apt to be a ques 
 tion of money. Let s go to the house and 
 see what they have to say about it there." 
 
 They recrossed the lagoon and hurried up 
 the beach to the new house which reared it 
 self in garish loneliness, its villainously-col 
 ored tiles ablaze in the late sunlight and de 
 fying coarsely the soft tints of sea and sky 
 and the sweetly subdued richness in the tone 
 of the heaving sand-hills. There it stood, 
 unfaithful to its trust, like some painted 
 courtezan flaunting her colors in defiant 
 desolation, vulgar yet pathetic, prideful, 
 abandoned, alone. 
 
 Deane gave the bell-cord a tug which set 
 the whole place clattering and jangling 
 hideously, but only the discordant echoes 
 came from the silent house. 
 
 "Try again," said Mr. Smalley; "then 
 chuck a rock through the window. I m sure 
 that would be less offensive than that bell." 
 
 Deane gave another tug, and again the 
 vile bell clamored, but with no response. 
 
 " Let s kick in the gate," suggested Smal 
 ley. Deane promptly acted on this advice, 
 and the heavy gate being unbarred and held 
 
 32
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 only by a feeble latch, they were quickly 
 inside the court. 
 
 "Either no one is at home," observed 
 Smalley, "or else they think that we have 
 come to cut their throats, and are, perhaps, 
 at this minute drawing a bead on us from 
 the cracks in those iron shutters." 
 
 "Oh, puff!" said Deane. "It is just as 
 I thought. There is nobody at home. They 
 have all gone off and left the girl alone, so 
 she took it into her head to have a little 
 outing of her own. You can t tell ; very pos 
 sibly they were bribed by this beast to clear 
 out!" 
 
 "That also is possible," assented Mr. 
 Smalley. "The matter as it now stands is 
 resolved into a single query: What are we 
 going to do about it?" 
 
 A look of determination had appeared 
 upon the thoroughbred features of Mr. 
 Deane. The habitual expression of lazy 
 indifference had been displaced by one of 
 dominant alertness, quite new to his friend. 
 Also the drawling, mocking tones of his 
 voice had vanished, giving way to a note of 
 new and unsuspected masterfulness, 
 
 33
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 11 That is a foolish and unnecessary ques 
 tion, Sam," he answered sternly. "There 
 can possibly be but one thing for us to do, 
 and that is to rescue her!" 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 ; Yes. Whoever this Russian may be, and 
 no matter what his relations are to the girl, 
 the fact remains that he has dragged her off 
 by force and against her will. It is up to us 
 to rescue her first and ask questions after 
 ward. Come on " 
 
 " Wait a minute," said Mr. Smalley. " I 
 hear a noise!" 
 
 The sound of scratching became audible 
 at a window behind them and was followed 
 by a plaintive " mee-aow ! " 
 
 "Let the poor beast out," said Smalley. 
 Deane tried the shutter, which was unlocked, 
 and throwing it open discovered a large tor 
 toise-shell cat sitting upon the window-sill. 
 Much to his surprise the window itself was 
 also unfastened. He threw it open, when 
 the cat leaped out and began to rub against 
 his legs. But something just within the 
 room had caught the young man s eye. Upon 
 a decorative easel stood an exquisitely 
 
 34
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 painted head of the girl herself. It was 
 scarcely more than a study, but masterly in 
 style and a likeness, as she might have looked 
 at sixteen. In one corner of the canvas 
 was inscribed in thin lettering: 
 
 La Comtesse Diane Roubanoff. 
 Compliment de Leon Marceau. 
 
 The Countess Diane Roubanoff," cried 
 Deane in amazement. " Why, Sam, wasn t 
 it a Count Roubanoff whom that Baltimore 
 beauty, Daisy Fairfax, married about 
 twenty years ago?" 
 
 Yes ; she was a relation of mine. You 
 know he was killed in the late unpleasant 
 ness with Japan. Used to be in the diplo 
 matic service." 
 
 Deane grabbed his friend by the arm and 
 pushed him in front of the window. 
 
 "Look at that," he said excitedly. "That 
 girl is a relative of yours, Sam! a relative, 
 by gad, and here she has been kidnaped 
 under your very nose, poor thing ! " 
 
 Mr. Smalley stared and his lean jaw 
 dropped. Suddenly he banged the shutter 
 and started for the gate. 
 
 35
 
 The Countess Diane 
 " Come on, Archie," he called back over 
 his shoulder. "We have fooled away too 
 much time already." He started off on a 
 trot, Deane falling in at his side. 
 
 "That s Daisy Fairfax s daughter- 
 no doubt of that!" said Mr. Smalley, 
 as he toiled along through the sand. 
 l Her mother died ten years ago they 
 say he ill-used her; those beggars usually 
 
 do!" 
 
 "Good thing you filled your tank! 
 puffed Deane. " Do you think that we ought 
 to inform the police?" 
 
 "Not yet; the dog may have some legal 
 claim on her guardian or something. Our 
 play is to steal her back again if we can 
 and then see how we stand afterward. He 
 will not have more than an hour s start and 
 we can go two kilometres to his one. Be 
 sides, he is shy a lamp, and it s a dark night 
 or will be." 
 
 " True, mon gars, and that wagon lit he is 
 driving will not do much over these hills. 
 If he is going east he will strike out for 
 Rennes, and in any case he is almost sure 
 to pass through Rosporden. When we learn
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 which way he has turned from there we 
 can be pretty sure whether he is lining out 
 for Paris or going north or south. That 
 one searchlight of his will make it easy to 
 follow him ; they are sure to notice it at the 
 octroi stations." 
 
 " We can follow his track with my head 
 lights," puffed Mr. Smalley, upon whom 
 the pace set by his enthusiastic friend was 
 beginning to tell, "and if we see any indi 
 cation of his turning off from the post-road 
 we can look for that tear mark." He slack 
 ened his pace. "Hold up, Archie; suppose 
 we come down to our first through this sand. 
 Let s wait and do our hurrying after we get 
 in the car." 
 
 " The Countess Diane," murmured Deane 
 reflectively. " Lovely name, Diane. Fits 
 her, too, don t you think?" 
 
 Yes. What are your plans after we 
 rescue her?" 
 
 "Why eh no doubt they will be gov 
 erned largely by circumstances 
 
 " They usually are. I suppose that in the 
 end I will probably have to marry her just 
 for the look of the thing." Mr. Smalley 
 
 37
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 turned away his large, bony features to hide 
 a grin. 
 
 " Oh, puff ! " growled Deane. " Can t you 
 think of anything but getting the poor girl 
 married? Think of that lovely, innocent 
 child being locked up in a limousine with 
 that hairy brute of a Slav! And she was 
 
 having such a good time " Deane s 
 
 usually placid voice grew suddenly fierce. 
 "I swear, I hope to get out of this thing 
 without a fight, Sam, but if the worst comes 
 to the worst I ll not stop at beating in that 
 brute s head with a crowbar!" 
 
 "Oh, very well only be sure that there 
 is a crowbar before you start," said Mr. 
 Smalley. " I almost smashed my fist with 
 out doing any damage to speak of, and I 
 put it right in the best place, too. It would 
 have been a down and outer for most men, 
 but this beggar gets up and runs across 
 about a kilometre and a half of loose sand 
 with a big, heavy girl in his arms. You can 
 toy with him next time, Archie." 
 
 On arriving at the farm the two men 
 learned that the chauffeur had kindly of 
 fered to assist Glodina, a rosy-cheeked sis- 
 
 38
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 ter of Corentine, in driving home the sheep, 
 which were pastured at a considerable dis 
 tance. 
 
 "The little beast!" growled Smalley. 
 "We re lucky, though, that he didn t take 
 her in the car. He d have done so if there d 
 been any road!" 
 
 " Never mind," said Deane. :< There will 
 be one less to pay hush-money to, and we 
 don t need him anyway. Let s slip on some 
 clothes and get away. I ll have one of the 
 girls put us up some sandwiches to nibble 
 on the road." 
 
 A few minutes later the big car with 
 Deane driving, for his friend was a trifle 
 incommoded by a sore right hand, rolled 
 heavily out of the winding lane and, strik 
 ing the smooth highway, turned its nose 
 eastward in hot pursuit of the abducted 
 Countess Diane.
 
 II 
 
 T was growing dark when the big 
 
 T touring car swung out upon the 
 
 Benodet Road, so Deane stopped 
 
 and Smalley got down and lit the 
 
 lamps. 
 
 " There have been several cars past here," 
 he observed, glancing at the road. 
 
 " There is no use in trying to pick up his 
 trail till we get to Rosporden," said Deane. 
 " He is almost sure to go that way. What 
 I think is that he will put up for the night 
 at some obscure little place along the road. 
 He will hardly attempt to drive that box 
 straight through to Paris. Jump in and we 
 will unhook a little speed." 
 
 Mr. Smalley complied. Deane proceeded 
 to unhook until the powerful engines which 
 had seemed to fret and kick and hammer at 
 restraint settled down with a droning hum to 
 their splendid work, and the big car swept 
 
 40
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 on until the wind began to tear past the well- 
 protected faces of the two men and the kilo 
 metre stones fled by, seventy, eighty, ninety 
 and even a hundred to the hour where a 
 good, clean tangent, unmarred by curve or 
 too much grade, gave opportunity. But 
 for the most part their course was a series 
 of swift rushes and quick slowings of speed, 
 for the road, while fine, like all French roads, 
 was hilly and often tortuous. 
 
 On they flew, the motor running like a 
 watch and the powerful light holding up for 
 sharp inspection every minute detail of the 
 roadbed. They skimmed along high ridges 
 where the country beneath lay dark and 
 mysterious, with tiny lights pricking out the 
 resting hamlets; they plunged into sombre 
 forests where the searchlights seemed to bore 
 a blazing hole between the tree-trunks for 
 the passage of the car; they dipped into fra 
 grant valleys where the witch-mist hung 
 from the willows and a trout-stream splashed 
 noisily over its rocky bed. Almost before 
 they realized that they were fairly started 
 Rosporden was reached, and there they 
 learned that their quarry had passed through 
 
 41
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 and turned northward on leaving the 
 village. 
 
 " That settles it," said Deane. " He s go 
 ing by the Cotes du Nord. That means a 
 wild run through some very rough country. 
 He can never have been through there or he 
 wouldn t tackle it in that Bois de Boulogne 
 limousine ! " 
 
 "All the better for us," said Smalley. 
 " He will be easier to trail, and we will catch 
 him all the sooner." 
 
 " He will probably skirt along the edge of 
 the Montagnes Noires, then strike across 
 for Lamballe," said Deane, shoving up his 
 speed as the powerful car vigorously 
 breasted a long up-grade. "We will have 
 to make our big gains hill-climbing; the 
 turns in the road hold down our speed on 
 the levels." 
 
 The lights of a village twinkled out ahead, 
 and the big horn blared out its warning. 
 This and the terrifying roar of the motor 
 as Deane opened up the muffler had cleared 
 the main street even before it was set blazing 
 in the twin beams of the powerful reflectors, 
 and they swept through like a cyclone in a 
 
 42
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 chaos of reverberations, thrown back by the 
 double row of buildings and a syncopated 
 chorus of barks and cries. 
 
 "We mustn t get arrested!" shouted 
 Smalley. 
 
 " Never mind if we do! " answered Deane. 
 " You will not know anything about it until 
 you get back to Paris, and then all that you 
 have to do is to pay ! " 
 
 The next village they approached more 
 quietly, and on stopping to inquire at several 
 places learned that the other car had pre 
 ceded them by half an hour. 
 
 That cross-country hack has got speed 
 possibilities you wouldn t credit her with," 
 said Smalley. "Must have a husky old 
 engine ! " 
 
 "He s done well," admitted Deane. "I 
 wouldn t care to drive the thing up and 
 down these hills as he must have. He is 
 evidently in a hurry, and he wants to get off 
 the main routes. I don t like it not one 
 bit." And once again the speed was lifted 
 until Smalley, who was not driving, began 
 to think about his soul. Being, however, 
 possessed of a certain philosophy, it sud- 
 
 43
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 denly occurred to him that he had not dined, 
 and reaching in his pocket he hauled out the 
 light lunch prepared by Corentine, and 
 munched away with the consoling reflection 
 that a man meets death as cheerfully on a 
 full stomach as upon an empty one. 
 
 Having eaten and refreshed himself, Mr. 
 Smalley insisted upon taking his turn at 
 driving, and Deane was reluctantly forced 
 to comply. Being too excited to eat or 
 drink, he sat and stared ahead at the swiftly 
 unfolding road until the whole became a 
 swimming void, against which appeared the 
 ravishing picture of the Countess Diane. 
 
 Wilder and more rugged grew the coun 
 try. Great tumbling hills barren of trees 
 reared blackly against the sombre sky. The 
 road grew steeper and more tortuous, some 
 times skirting a forest-filled valley from 
 which arose the sullen roar of a cataract, or 
 winding across bleak moor-land covered with 
 bracken and studded with black granite 
 boulders. It was the poorest and most deso 
 late part of France, and such houses as they 
 passed were mere hovels thrown up upon the 
 roadside. Amidst these most depressing 
 
 44
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 surroundings, where but little work was to 
 be expected of the cantonniers, they began 
 to have tire troubles, and lost almost an hour 
 in shifting and mending inner tubes. 
 
 By midnight they were getting into a bet 
 ter country again, and were encouraged to 
 learn from a pedler whom they overtook that 
 the other car was less than three-quarters of 
 an hour ahead. 
 
 " Looks as if he were holding straight on 
 for the coast," said Deane. "Perhaps he s 
 got a house of his own somewhere." 
 
 At Lamballe, which they reached shortly 
 after midnight, they learned that the other 
 car had just preceded them, the chauffeur 
 inquiring for the road to Dinan. Two kilo 
 metres outside the town, as they emerged 
 from a heavy grove of chestnuts they saw on 
 a turn ahead a bright beam of light which 
 blazed out, spraying the treetops with a 
 weird, unearthly brilliance. 
 
 " There he is ! " cried Smalley. 
 
 "He has stopped," answered Deane. 
 
 " What shall we do ? " Mr. Smalley threw 
 out the clutch and let the car roll down the 
 incline. 
 
 45
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " Stop a little this side and let me go and 
 talk to him. He might recognize you." 
 
 About fifty paces behind the other car 
 Mr. Smalley brought his car to a stop and 
 Deane stepped down and walked ahead. 
 Two dark figures were in the road at the side 
 of the car, and the artist saw that the left 
 hind- wheel was jacked up and that the 
 smaller man was breaking out his extra 
 shoe. 
 
 You are in difficulty, Monsieur?" in 
 quired Deane, saluting. 
 
 "We have torn a shoe on these accursed 
 flints," answered the big man, somewhat 
 stiffly saluting in turn. 
 
 "Perhaps we can be of service," said 
 Deane, stepping to the side of the car. 
 
 "If Monsieur is not in haste," said the 
 chauffeur, "he could accommodate us 
 greatly by the loan of his pump. The valves 
 of our own leak badly." 
 
 " With pleasure," said Deane. " We are 
 in no hurry whatever." 
 
 He walked back to where Mr. Smalley 
 was waiting in some excitement. 
 
 "They want to borrow our pump," said 
 46
 
 Tlie Countess Diane 
 
 Deane. " I can t see into the limousine very 
 well, but there is some one inside. Just 
 wait here and if you get a cue from me don t 
 stop to ask questions. Of course," he con 
 cluded as he pulled out the pump, "if you 
 hear a row you don t need to wait to be in 
 troduced." 
 
 "All right, Professsor," answered Mr. 
 Smalley cheerfully. " Give me a cigar and 
 then bulge in." 
 
 Taking the pump, Deane returned to the 
 other car. The Russian had mounted to the 
 driver s seat, where he sat muttering impa 
 tiently at the delay and tugging at his heavy 
 mustache. 
 
 <f Merci, Monsieur" he said shortly. " You 
 are most kind. As soon as we have finished 
 I well send my man back with the pump." 
 
 "It is nothing," answered Deane, igno 
 ring the implied suggestion that he return 
 and wait in his own car. "Perhaps I can 
 be of further assistance." 
 
 "There is nothing more, thank you," 
 growled the Russian. Deane, apparently 
 not noticing his gruffness, walked around 
 the car as if inspecting it. lie did not fail 
 
 47
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 to observe the owner s nervous irritation at 
 his lingering. 
 
 " Vite vite! " he snarled at his mechani 
 cian. 
 
 "" Oui, oui, Monsieur! " panted the fright 
 ened man. 
 
 You have a very heavy car for this coun 
 try," observed Deane casually. He stepped 
 forward to look at the carosserie. The Rus 
 sian made a quick, involuntary gesture as 
 though to stop him, then recovered himself 
 and swore beneath his breath. 
 
 Deane s eyes tried to pierce the gloom 
 within the vehicle, but all that he could dis 
 tinguish was a dark mass of rugs in the far 
 corner. He stepped close to the side of the 
 car as if to get a shield from the wind, placed 
 a cigar between his lips and, with his face 
 close to the window, struck a fusee. It flared 
 up brilliantly, being one of the kind made to 
 use in the wind. 
 
 " Sacrel 33 growled the Russian in a low 
 fury. 
 
 Pardon ?" mumbled Deane, without 
 turning. He shielded the match with his 
 hands and threw the light directly into the 
 
 48
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 vehicle, looked quickly inside, and then, flick 
 ing away the match, turned to the Rus 
 sian. 
 
 "May I offer Monsieur a cigar?" he 
 asked. His voice was composed, but his 
 heart was hammering furiously, for in the 
 quick, upward flare of the match he had 
 caught a glimpse of a white face and two 
 wild, terror-stricken eyes. But what had 
 roused the fighting-blood of the young man 
 was the sight of a crimson smear which 
 crossed the forehead and ran down the pal 
 lid face. 
 
 " Merci! merci! " growled the . Russian, 
 with a brusque, negative gesture of his 
 gauntleted hand. "I cannot smoke and 
 drivel" He turned to the chauffeur, who 
 had adjusted the shoe and was connecting 
 the pump. "Hurry, you fool! Hurry, I 
 tell you!" 
 
 Deane s mind was working rapidly, 
 grasping plans for a rescue only to throw 
 them aside. He realized the need of swift 
 action, for the chauffeur had almost finished 
 inflating the tire. Presently the man paused 
 an instant. 
 
 49
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "Eh bien!" snarled his master, who sup 
 posed that he had finished. " Start the 
 motor." 
 
 The man dropped the pump to crank the 
 engine, which started off with a roar. 
 
 ff Depechez! " snarled the Russian. " Give 
 the gentleman his pump and get into the 
 limousine ! " 
 
 " One moment, Monsieur! " cried the man, 
 and started to violently pump the final re 
 maining strokes. But with the Russian s 
 last few words Deane had all at once re 
 ceived his cue. He hurried back to Mr. 
 Smalley. 
 
 "Get down!" whispered Deane fiercely. 
 "Get down, and when this fellow comes 
 with the pump, grab him and stop his mouth. 
 Grab him and stop his mouth, d you hear?" 
 
 The quick-witted Mr. Smalley swung his 
 long, muscular frame lightly to the ground. 
 
 "All right!" said he, and slipped quickly 
 out of his ulster; " but look out how you mix 
 it up with the big brute, Archie ! " 
 
 " Never mind me I ll be all right. Here 
 he comes now. Just you grab him and stop 
 his gawp; I ll take care of my end." Even 
 
 50
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 as he spoke he saw the man pick up the pump 
 and come running toward them. 
 
 "Via, Monsieur. Merd!" he panted, 
 breathless from his violent exertions. He 
 held out the pump, and the next instant 
 found himself flat upon his back in the road, 
 with Mr. Smalley on top of him and that 
 gentleman s cap smothering the very scanty 
 breath which he had left. 
 
 Without even waiting to see that his 
 friend had the upper hand, Deane turned 
 and ran toward the other car, which had al 
 ready started ahead under its first speed. 
 The noise of the motor would have quite 
 drowned any cries which might have escaped 
 from the unfortunate chauffeur. 
 
 " Get in, pig! " snarled the Russian, with 
 out looking around. 
 
 Deane wrenched open the door and 
 plunged in headlong. At the same time the 
 car sprang forward and threw him against 
 a figure enveloped in a long, heavy ulster. 
 
 "Pardon 1 he muttered, trying to extri 
 cate himself. His efforts were assisted with 
 more force than politeness by a vigorous 
 thrust from a strong young pair of arms. 
 
 51
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "Get in front, where you belong!" said 
 a fierce but musical voice from the corner. 
 " I will not have you in here ! " 
 
 Deane clambered into the seat beside the 
 girl. 
 
 "Do not make a noise, Mademoiselle," 
 said he. " I am not the chauffeur." 
 
 "Not the chauffeur? Who arc you, 
 then?" 
 
 " I am an American an artist," answered 
 Deane, feeling slightly foolish, although he 
 could not have told why. "You are the 
 Countess Diane Roubanoff, are you not?" 
 
 "And if I am?" answered the low, pas 
 sionate voice. "Is that any reason why I 
 should have strange men tumbling in beside 
 me?" 
 
 "Please, do not speak so loud," said 
 Deane desperately, adding, "You don t 
 seem to understand. I have come to rescue 
 you!" 
 
 There was a moment s pause, then a cold 
 voice said in perfect English : 
 
 " But I do not understand. Why should 
 an American artist want to rescue me? " 
 
 "Why eh because " stammered 
 
 52
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 Deane in some embarrassment. " Don t you 
 want to be rescued? One would naturally 
 expect a woman who has been forcibly ab 
 ducted to want to be rescued." 
 
 "But who are you?" whispered the girl 
 tensely, " and why are you so determined to 
 rescue me?" 
 
 "I can t very well explain now," said 
 Deane, speaking almost aloud in his vexa 
 tion. " I should have brought my passport, 
 I suppose. The point is, do you want to be 
 rescued? Because if you do I ll arrange it, 
 and if not I ll apologize for my intrusion and 
 clear out." 
 
 "What are you talking about?" whis 
 pered the girl. " How are you going to ar 
 range it?" 
 
 You leave that to me. My car is follow 
 ing just behind us, and all we have to do is 
 to get out of this and into that. We thought, 
 of course, you d want to be rescued, your 
 Cousin Sam and I." 
 
 "My cousin who?" 
 
 Your cousin, Sam Smalley. He s an 
 American related to you on your mother s 
 side. You probably never saw him," mum- 
 
 53
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 bled Deane. " I must say, it seems a bit un 
 grateful of you, after all the work we ve 
 had " 
 
 "I m sorry," said the girl, "but it s all 
 very puzzling. At any rate, anything is bet 
 ter than being in the power of that beast! * 
 she added with a burst of passion. You 
 may rescue me, please. What do you want 
 me to do?" 
 
 "Sh-h!" said Deane, "he is looking 
 back." 
 
 The Russian had been driving very slowly 
 and looking back from time to time, evi 
 dently wondering what had detained the 
 other car. If he noticed the mumble of 
 voices from the limousine, which was improb 
 able owing to the noise of the motor, he made 
 no sign. Presently he started ahead, and 
 Deane noticed that the motor was not run 
 ning smoothly and that one of the cylinders 
 kept "missing." 
 
 " Who is that man and why did he kidnap 
 you?" he asked, in a low voice. 
 
 "He is my legal guardian," said the 
 Countess in a strained voice. " He wants to 
 get me to Russia before I become of age, 
 
 51
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 which will be in less than a month, as he 
 knows that otherwise he will never get me 
 there at all." 
 
 The last words came from between the 
 girl s set teeth. 
 
 "In that case," said the artist, "we will 
 attempt to fool him. But we will have to be 
 quick. That engine is going to buck in a 
 minute." 
 
 "To what?" 
 
 "To stop. When he slows down on the 
 next hill I will open the door. Then, when 
 he shifts his gears, we will slip out and wait 
 for my car. He will not hear us for the 
 racket." 
 
 To the amazement of the artist the Count 
 ess leaned back and broke into a soft, rip 
 pling laugh. 
 
 "What are you laughing at?" asked 
 Deane suspiciously. 
 
 "What a lark!" she whispered, her lips 
 close to his ear. " I would give a good deal 
 to see Ivan Kharkof s face when he finds 
 that he has been driving an empty car." 
 
 "Is that Prince Kharkof?" asked Deane 
 quickly. 
 
 55
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 y/ !L 
 
 Yes. Did you not know? He is a ter 
 rible man. Don t you think that you had 
 better change your mind? " 
 
 " I know him by reputation," said Deane 
 doggedly; "and what I know makes me all 
 the more determined to get you out of his 
 hands. Isn t this a hill in front of us? " 
 
 A black rampart loomed suddenly ahead, 
 and presently the pitch of the car and the 
 labored beat of the engine told them that 
 they had begun to climb. The Prince had 
 gone back to " second," and presently Deane 
 saw his bulky figure reach forward again for 
 the speed-lever. The car was almost at a 
 stop. 
 
 "Come, be ready!" he whispered, and as 
 the Prince shifted the gears with much 
 grinding of cogs and curses at the transmis 
 sion, Deane threw open the door and slipped 
 to the ground. The Countess was about to 
 follow when, suddenly, the Prince turned 
 and looked directly at him. 
 
 " Look also at the tires on the other side," 
 he growled. Deane, grasping the situation, 
 fell behind the car for a moment, then 
 sprang back upon the running-board. 
 
 56 
 
 =<^
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 ff Bon, Monsieur! " he panted. 
 
 .The Prince paid no attention to him, but 
 continued cursing the motor. The car was 
 moving ahead at the speed of a rapid walk. 
 Deane was afraid each moment that the mo 
 tor would stop. He thrust his head inside 
 the car. 
 
 "Come!" he whispered. 
 
 "We are going too fast," said the 
 Countess. 
 
 " No, we re not. Come ! " 
 
 The Countess slipped out and into the 
 arms which Deane reached toward her. The 
 manoeuvre was well timed for their escape, 
 if not for their comfort, as at the same 
 moment the Prince shifted to the next speed 
 ahead. The Countess was flung into the arms 
 of the artist with such violence as to throw 
 him on his back in the road. 
 
 The Countess scrambled to her feet. She 
 gazed for a moment after the rapidly dwin 
 dling red light of the car, then looked down 
 at Deane and laughed. 
 
 "Me voila! I am rescued!" she cried 
 mockingly. You are not hurt? " 
 
 "Only in my pride," said the artist, 
 57
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 scrambling up. " I did not mean to conduct 
 your rescue in precisely that way." 
 
 " At least," said the Countess, " it appears 
 to be effective. Now, if you please, my 
 cousin and the motor-car, for I am bare 
 footed, very, very hungry, and" she 
 yawned " it is long past my bedtime." 
 
 " Good gracious ! do you mean to say that 
 you are standing there on your bare feet!" 
 cried the horrified artist. "Let me carry 
 you up to the top of the bank, and we will 
 wait there for our car." 
 
 " Thank you," replied the Countess, " but 
 I have been carried enough for one day. I 
 fought horribly when Ivan caught me, but 
 all that I accomplished by it was to scratch 
 my forehead on his scarfpin. He has the 
 strength of a bear, that man!" 
 
 Ignoring the protests of the young man, 
 the Countess picked her way daintily across 
 the road. Once or twice when a pebble 
 came beneath her foot she gave a little 
 " ale! " the cry of French children when hurt. 
 But on reaching the bank, which was rough 
 and bushy, she paused and looked despair 
 ingly at the artist. 
 
 58
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " Can t we sit here and wait?" she asked. 
 
 " It would not be safe," said Deane. " Jhe 
 Prince is apt to miss us and return at any 
 moment. You must let me carry you up to 
 the trunk of that big tree. You cannot 
 walk, because it is a chestnut and the ground 
 will be covered with burs." 
 
 "I will do nothing of the sort," replied 
 the Countess angrily, the unshod condition 
 of her small foot alone preventing her from 
 stamping it viciously. " I have been mauled 
 and hauled about enough! If it is a ques 
 tion of being carried I will stop where I 
 am!" 
 
 Deane slipped off his ulster and spread it 
 upon the ground. 
 
 " Sit down, please," said he, " and we will 
 see if we can t rig you up some sort of pan- 
 toufles. Take these big gauntlets of mine 
 and our mufflers." 
 
 That is a good plan," said the Countess. 
 You are really quite an intelligent person, 
 after all!" 
 
 Declining the young man s assistance, the 
 girl quickly improvised a pair of moccasins; 
 then, taking Deane s hand, the two scrambled 
 
 59
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 up the bank and seated themselves with their 
 backs against the big chestnut. A fringe of 
 bushes screened them from the road and be 
 hind them there appeared to be a forest. 
 From below them in the wooded darkness 
 there came the noise of running water. 
 
 " Have you anything to eat and drink in 
 your car?" asked the Countess. "I am dy 
 ing of hunger and thirst." 
 
 "Poor lady," said Deane; "did he starve 
 you also?" He reached into his pocket and 
 pulled out the sandwiches and chicken pre 
 pared by Corentine, and which in the excite 
 ment of the chase he had quite forgotten. 
 
 " Here is some lunch which I brought for 
 you, and while you are examining it I will 
 go to that spring I hear and get you some 
 water." 
 
 The Countess accepted the sandwiches 
 with the grateful philosophy of a trained 
 campaigner, and the artist departed in quest 
 of water. 
 
 After a somewhat precarious journey 
 to the bottom of a glen, dark as a pocket 
 and sown with mossy rocks and the toughest 
 of briers, he returned with the cover of his 
 
 60
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 flask and the inverted top of his leathern 
 cap filled with water. 
 
 ; That in the flask-cover is to drink," he 
 explained, " and the other is for the bath. If 
 you will let me wash your face I think that 
 it may save your Cousin Sam a shock!" 
 
 The Countess dropped the cup which she 
 had just emptied, and stared at him in angry 
 bewilderment. 
 
 "Wash my face! What do you mean? 
 Wash my face! " 
 
 Yes," said Deane. "It s smeared with 
 blood from the scratch on your fore 
 head " 
 
 "Oh, is it? What a fright I must be! 
 I m glad it s dark." The Countess quickly 
 erased the stains of the fray, then leaned 
 back against the tree and yawned. 
 
 "I am almost asleep," she said. "What 
 do you suppose has delayed your car? Per 
 haps Cousin Sam has got discouraged and 
 gone back to bed!" She smothered with 
 difficulty another yawn. "I wonder what 
 makes me so sleepy." 
 
 You have been through enough to make 
 you a bit jaded," said Deane dryly. "The 
 
 61
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 wonder is that you haven t nervous prostra 
 tion, and heart disease, and pneumonia, and 
 croup, and " 
 
 "Oh, nonsense! I m not made of me 
 ringue! I think that it is the speed of the 
 car which makes it so hard to keep 
 awake " 
 
 The sleepy words seemed more and more 
 difficult. Deane glanced at her and saw that 
 the pretty head with its great, ruffled mane 
 of hair was nodding farther and farther. 
 Suddenly the Countess pitched forward, 
 then recovered herself with an effort. 
 
 "What ?" she asked drowsily. "If 
 
 you don t mind I think that I will 
 will " and again the head bobbed for 
 ward. 
 
 Deane arose quietly and threw his heavy 
 ulster over her, then seating himself with his 
 back propped against the tree, he drew the 
 Countess gently down until she was resting 
 with her head above his knee. The change 
 of position roused her, but not to wakeful- 
 ness. 
 
 "What ?" she murmured. "Yes, 
 
 thank you warm enough " And with 
 
 62 

 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 a gentle sigh the Countess Diane lapsed into 
 a deep and restful oblivion. 
 
 Deane turned up his coat-collar, shoved 
 his hands deep into the side pockets of his 
 jacket, and settled down to wait. He did 
 not dare to doze for fear that Mr. Smalley, 
 flying on his trail, might slip past before he 
 could hail him. 
 
 The night grew old, the silence deepened, 
 if this were possible, and remained unbroken 
 by the distant beat of machinery for which 
 the soul of the artist so yearned. Yet he 
 was not unhappy. He was chilled, to be 
 sure, for although midsummer the air was 
 keen, and he was very hungry, for the 
 Countess had thoughtlessly eaten his supper, 
 light at the best. Also the Countess was 
 snugly w r rapped in his ulster, had been given 
 the remaining swallow of brandy left in his 
 flask, and was wearing his buckskin gaunt 
 lets upon her dainty feet. In spite of all 
 this, or, more truthfully, because of it, the 
 spirits of the artist never drooped, his sole 
 concern being the non-appearance of Mr. 
 Smalley and the motor-car. 
 
 Countess never stirred. Her soft, 
 63
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 long respirations told of a deep and refresh 
 ing sleep. Possibly, the artist dozed uncon 
 sciously, as it did not seem long to him before 
 the first mysterious light of the early sum 
 mer dawn began to etch out the perspectives. 
 Then sound seemed born again; cocks 
 crowed in the distance, he heard the lowing 
 of cattle, the peevish, early-morning barking 
 of a dog, and sleepy twitterings and chirp 
 ings arose in the foliage overhead. Soon 
 peasant carts began to pass, heading toward 
 Lamballe, and Deane remembered that it 
 was a market day. Lighter it grew; the 
 chirpings in the forest ripened into song. 
 Three- and four-horse tandems passed down 
 the road in a long procession; peasants 
 trudged along afoot, some shoving voitures 
 a bras. It seemed to the artist, now thor 
 oughly congealed, that the sun would never 
 rise. The pretty head of the Countess as 
 seen in the fresh, early light was ravishing 
 as ever, but its weight had now assumed 
 ponderosity, and Deane was sure that his 
 left side was paralyzed from the waist down. 
 Then suddenly the sun burst up over the 
 treetops, almost with an anthem in the glory 
 
 64
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 of a perfect morning 1 . Deane felt his heart 
 expand. He looked long and earnestly at 
 the Countess, whose sleep was obviously 
 lighter. Her cheek was resting on her hand ; 
 the rich hair, ruddy in the golden light, had 
 broken from its last restraint and tumbled 
 over her neck and shoulders. There was a 
 faint flush upon her cheek, and the long 
 lashes, several tones darker than her hair, 
 swept down in a perfect arc. The short 
 and slightly retrousse nose and pouting lips 
 wore the expression seen on the face of a 
 sleeping child, innocent, untroubled, confi 
 dent. 
 
 Up came the sun, high over the treetops, 
 and gazed warmly into the Countess face. 
 Deane laughed to see the way in which she 
 wrinkled up her pretty nose as if to sneeze. 
 Then she did sneeze, and promptly awoke. 
 Up went the long lashes, the vivid blue eyes 
 looked straight into his with a curious ex 
 pression of sleepy indifference. Then, as 
 he watched, charmed and interested at the 
 awakening, full consciousness blazed up in 
 their depths, and the Countess thrust herself 
 quickly upward with her strong young arms. 
 
 65
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! Where am I ? " she cried. 
 
 Deane looked at her smilingly, but did not 
 reply. The different stages of her return 
 ing consciousness from deep sleep were too 
 pretty to interrupt. 
 
 She stared up into his face, and as she 
 did so a great wave of color flooded her own. 
 Her eyes fell; then she glanced up at him 
 shyly and began to laugh. Deane joined, 
 and for a minute or two they gave them 
 selves up to mirth. 
 
 "dell " cried the Countess. " What a sit 
 uation! " She clasped her hands in a horror 
 which was part real, part mockery. " Where 
 is the motor-car and my Cousin Sam?" 
 
 " That is what I have been asking myself 
 all night, Countess," answered Deane. " He 
 has either got en panne or left the road. 
 Sam would never quit the trail as long as 
 a wheel would turn!" 
 
 " I hope Cousin Sam is not hurt," said the 
 Countess demurely. "But what are we 
 to do?" 
 
 " We must certainly get to Dinan to-day," 
 said Deane. "It must be fifty kilometres 
 from here, which is too far to drive, but we 
 
 66
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 are quite near Lamballe, and I happen to 
 know that there is a train which leaves there 
 for Dinan at about five in the afternoon, 
 as I passed through en route from St. Brieuc 
 not long ago." 
 
 "But I can t travel this way!" cried the 
 Countess. " I have not even a hair-ribbon!" 
 
 Mr. Deane reached his hand in his pocket 
 and produced the black velvet bow which 
 he had picked up on the beach the day 
 before. 
 
 " Permit me to supply you with one," said 
 he with a smile. 
 
 "It is my own!" cried the Countess. 
 "Where did you find it?" 
 
 " On the beach. It is a long story, and just 
 now present history is far more important. 
 It has occurred to me that if you are to es 
 cape recapture a disguise will be necessary. 
 The Prince could not have gone far before 
 discovering your escape, and he will rake 
 this part of the country with a fine-toothed 
 comb. How would you like to be a peasant 
 girl for a few hours? " 
 
 " I would be anything for a few hours 
 rather than be caught!" replied the Count- 
 
 67
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 ess. " I think that a peasant s costume 
 might be rather chic. All that I have on be 
 neath this ulster is a tattered old gown made 
 for garden fetes!" 
 
 " The Prince," said Deane, " thinks, no 
 doubt, that you have bribed his chauffeur to 
 help you to escape. He has no reason to sus 
 pect me, so his spies will be looking for you 
 and the man. Now, if I could get you a 
 peasant costume it would be a very effective 
 disguise, as we would pass for an artist and 
 his eh model. 
 
 "Oh, indeed!" said the Countess shortly. 
 
 "If I can get the costume," continued 
 Deane, " I would stop one of these peasant 
 women and engage her services as a maid. 
 She would show you how to wear the thing." 
 
 As they were discussing the question there 
 came toiling up the road one of the big 
 pedlers wagons so often met with in the 
 provinces. Deane descended and explained 
 to the pedler that he was an artist and had 
 need of a complete peasant costume for his 
 model. This the man w r as able to supply, 
 and the artist also purchased some shoes 
 and stockings, carrying up an assortment 
 
 68
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 from which the Countess made her selection. 
 Last of all he requisitioned from the mer 
 chant s private store some bread and cheese, 
 eggs, coif ee, and a piece of sausage. 
 
 " First of all," said the young man, as he 
 returned to the Countess, " we will go down 
 to the brook and cook our breakfast. After 
 that I will engage the services of a maid, 
 when you can retire to the sylvan depths and 
 change your costume while I am taking a 
 nap." 
 
 He kindled a tiny fire on the edge of the 
 brook and set some water to boil in one of 
 the little tin pails which he had bought for 
 the purpose. The Countess watched his 
 preparations with the deepest interest. 
 
 " Being kidnaped is very stimulating to 
 the appetite," she sighed, as she curled up 
 upon the moss and waited for the water to 
 boil. You have no idea how good those 
 things tasted last night." 
 
 She stopped suddenly and glanced at the 
 artist with a startled look. "Did you have 
 anything to eat? Was that your supper?" 
 she asked quickly. 
 
 "Oh, yes lots began the young 
 69 

 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 man. The Countess looked at him search- 
 ingly. 
 
 "I do not believe you!" said she slowly, 
 a troubled look in her sapphire eyes. " You 
 have an awfully gone look! Tell me, on 
 your word of honor, did you have anything 
 to eat last night?" 
 
 "Eh now that you mention it," began 
 Deane apologetically, " I believe I did over 
 look it. You see, motoring fast always has 
 a very peculiar effect upon me. Quite takes 
 away my appetite thought of food becomes 
 absolutely repulsively " 
 
 " I am a beast! " interrupted the Countess. 
 She arose to her feet, and walking to where 
 the artist was coaxing the fire with tiny 
 twigs, stood looking down at him in 
 tently. 
 
 " I wish to know something more," said 
 she. 
 
 "What?" said Deane, breaking a fagot 
 upon his knee. 
 
 "Look at me, please!" 
 
 The artist looked up defiantly. The blue 
 eyes of the Countess were fixed upon him 
 with a singular intentness of expression, 
 
 70
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 which for some reason set the young man s 
 heart to beating wildly. 
 
 " Did you get any sleep last night? " asked 
 the girl. 
 
 "Sleep? Oh, my, yes plenty 
 
 " I do not believe you ! You were in pre 
 cisely the same position when I awakened 
 and I had your ulster over me and your lips 
 were blue. You would not have dared to go 
 to sleep for fear the car might pass. What 
 makes those dark circles under your eyes? 
 I am a beast!" 
 
 "No, you re not; you are a dead game 
 sport!" 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 " A brave young person with the disposi 
 tion of an angel! Most women would be 
 calling me fighting-names for luring them 
 into a mess like this! Stop calling yourself 
 a beast, and clear off that flat stone for a 
 breakfast-table ! "* 
 
 The Countess did not stir. "How did 
 you happen to rescue me? " she asked. " You 
 took your life in your hands, getting into 
 that car ! What made you want to do 
 it?" 
 
 71
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " Go over there and sit down, and I will 
 tell you while the eggs are b ilin ; you make 
 me nervous. I m afraid you may get on 
 fire." 
 
 t The Countess gave him another look, then 
 slowly obeyed. In a few brief words Mr. 
 Deane related the whole series of events. 
 
 "It is very wonderful!" she murmured, 
 when he had finished. " But I don t under 
 stand now what made you so determined 
 to rescue me." 
 
 "My friends would call it my meddle 
 some nature." 
 
 " Was it that? " The Countess deep blue 
 eyes regarded him curiously. 
 
 "Partly." 
 
 "What else?" 
 
 " Call it chivalry, if you like," said Deane 
 mockingly. " There is still a little left. Here 
 have an egg?" 
 
 The Countess took the egg from his hand, 
 and as she did so their eyes met, not casually, 
 but in a deep look which brought with it a 
 quick flame of color in the face of each. A 
 sudden shyness fell upon the girl, and she 
 ate her breakfast almost in silence. As for 
 
 72
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 the artist, his social obligations as host con 
 fined themselves principally to the prepara 
 tion of eggs, sausage, and coffee. 
 
 When they had quite finished Deane, lean 
 ing back against a tree, surveyed the Count 
 ess with mingled admiration and amuse 
 ment. 
 
 You are at home in Arcady," he ob 
 served. 
 
 " I am at home in most places. You see, 
 I have lived a little bit of everywhere." 
 
 "Would you mind telling me," said 
 Deane, "why the Prince is so determined 
 to drag you off to Russia? " 
 
 " So that he can marry me," replied the 
 Countess with unconcern. " It would not be 
 so easy to marry me against my will here in 
 France." 
 
 " But if he is your legal guardian why was 
 it necessary for him to haul you off by the 
 hair of your head, half-dressed, and with 
 nothing to eat or drink? " 
 
 " No doubt it seemed to him easier. My 
 feelings did not matter." 
 
 Deane regarded her thoughtfully, then 
 rose to his feet. 
 
 73
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " If you will wait here," said he, " I will 
 go and catch you a nice, motherly maid, who 
 will help you to fool this animal!" 
 
 He walked across to the road and there 
 waited until there came along a well-appear 
 ing woman, carrying a basket of eggs. Hav 
 ing explained to her the nature of the serv 
 ices required, she readily consented and fol 
 lowed the artist to where the Countess was 
 waiting. 
 
 " Here is your maid," said Deane. " While 
 you are undergoing your transformation I 
 shall catch a few winks. If I am asleep when 
 you return, wake me, please." 
 
 He flung himself upon the moss, but the 
 Countess interfered. 
 
 You must not lie there," said she, " you 
 will catch cold." With a quick movement 
 she slipped off the ulster which she had been 
 wearing, and stood before him in the long, 
 pale, azure Empire gown. 
 
 " Lie on this coat," said she, spreading it 
 upon the ground. 
 
 The artist obeyed. The Countess then 
 covered him carefully with the other ulster, 
 and stepping back surveyed him with a 
 
 74
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 smile. Deane had never conceived so ravish 
 ing a picture as was made by the girl who 
 stood smiling against the background of 
 plushy green. The quaint old gown, with 
 its open neck, and sleeves which stopped be 
 tween the shoulder and elbow, contrasted 
 charmingly in its cool, pale tints with the 
 warm, ruddy coloring of the girl s rich hair 
 and creamy skin, and to the fascinated eyes 
 of the artist she seemed like a dryad just 
 freed from one of the neighboring tree- 
 trunks. 
 
 "Go to sleep!" said she, and raised one 
 finger to her lips. Deane pretended to close 
 his eyes, when the Countess, followed by 
 the smiling peasant woman, turned and 
 glided off into the woods. 
 
 When the artist awoke the sun was far 
 past the meridian. He sat up and rubbed 
 his eyes. 
 
 " I was just about to waken you," said a 
 fresh voice at his elbow, " but you said that 
 the train did not leave until late in the after 
 noon, and you seemed to be enjoying your 
 self so much ! " 
 
 He turned to see the Countess en pay- 
 
 75
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 sanne sitting upon the mossy bank, regard 
 ing him anxiously. 
 
 " How do I look? " she asked. 
 
 "You look charming," said he. "How 
 do you feel?" 
 
 " Horridly. Like a mummy. This bodice 
 is at least half an inch thick and the same 
 shape all of the way down. Haven t these 
 women any waists?" 
 
 " No," said Deane. 
 
 "I positively draw the line at sabots. 
 Must I have all of my hair under this nasty 
 little hood?" 
 
 " It is exceedingly bad form for a peasant 
 girl to permit a single lock of hair to show," 
 said Deane, "but as you are posing as a 
 model I think that you might stretch a point 
 by loosening the coiffe enough to be cool. 
 It must be very uncomfortable the way 
 it is; you look as if your hair was pulled 
 back so tightly that you could not shut your 
 eyes ! " He laughed. 
 
 The Countess stared at him with open 
 mouth and eyes, looking curiously like an 
 overgrown peasant child; then an angry 
 color flared into her pretty face. 
 
 76
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " I will not be laughed at like that ! What 
 right had you to interfere, I want to know? 
 Do you call it rescuing a girl to pitch her 
 out of a motor-car headfirst on a dark night 
 and then make her masquerade about look 
 ing like a bolster?" The Countess was rap 
 idly working herself into a fury. " I will 
 
 not wear these ridiculous things !" she 
 
 cried. " I will not be made a fool of for 
 you to laugh at ! I I " 
 
 " Stop it! " said Deane sternly. " Stop it 
 at once! You have no right to talk like 
 that ! " He sprang to his feet and stood in 
 front of the enraged Countess and shook his 
 finger in her face, his own so stern that the 
 girl s blue eyes opened wide. " Did you not 
 choose to be rescued? And now you are 
 kicking up all of this fuss purely through 
 foolish, offended vanity! I am ashamed of 
 you! My own regret is that you look as 
 pretty as you do! I chose this costume," 
 continued the wily painter, "especially in 
 the hope that it might conceal, or at least 
 minimize, your very unusual beaut eh 
 attractiveness, and so make you less conspic 
 uous ! One would think that you were dress- 
 
 77 

 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 ing for a diplomatic ball instead of to es 
 cape from a brute who handled you as if 
 you were a runaway pup! I am surprised. 
 What"- he lowered his voice to a tone of 
 sternest reproach " What do you think that 
 your Cousin Sam would say?" 
 
 " I I " She raised her eyes in 
 
 frightened defiance. " I don t care what my 
 Cousin Sam or any " 
 
 "Hush!" said Deane harshly. ; You 
 don t realize what you are saying! If you 
 knew how your Uncle Sam I mean your 
 Cousin Sam and I had risked our necks, 
 driving a fast car on a pitch-dark night at 
 150 kilometres an hour for shame! " 
 
 The Countess dropped her eyes again. 
 
 " I I m sorry," she whispered. " Do 
 do you really think that I am pretty 
 
 You are far too pretty for your safety, 
 my dear child!" said Deane paternally. 
 " Now let s go, for it s getting late." 
 
 They walked across to the road and there, 
 when they had gone but a short distance 
 toward Lamballe, they were overtaken by a 
 peasant driving a two-wheeled cart, which 
 Deane promptly chartered to transport them 
 
 78
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 for the rest of the way. Proceeding at once 
 to the railroad station, the artist was pleased 
 to discover that their train was due to leave 
 in a little over an hour. As the sight of a 
 handsome young man in stylish motoring 
 costume wandering about with a conspicu 
 ously pretty peasant girl promised to excite 
 attention of an undesired character, Deane 
 decided that the best place in which to wait 
 would be the station itself. As the ticket-of 
 fice had not yet opened and the waiting- 
 room was empty, he secured some fruit and 
 sandwiches, which he and the Countess were 
 contentedly discussing when there came 
 from just outside the window the roar of 
 an automobile. 
 
 Moved by a common impulse, the Count 
 ess and Deane leaped to their feet and, 
 with their heads thrust together, peered 
 through the grimy glass. A big limousine 
 car was swinging up to the platform, the 
 single occupant, who was driving, having 
 come apparently to learn something in re 
 gard to the trains, for he swung heavily to 
 the platform without stopping the motor. 
 
 The Countess seized the muscular arm of 
 .79.
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 the artist in a grip which, strong as it was, 
 the young man scarcely felt, for there, not 
 three feet from them, with his great hand 
 on the knob of the door, and his wicked, 
 bearded face set in a savage scowi, stood 
 Prince Ivan Kharkof himself! 
 
 80
 
 Ill 
 
 HE Prince threw the door vio- 
 lently open and entered. As he 
 did so Deane seized the Countess 
 by both shoulders and spun her 
 about so that her back was turned to the 
 Prince and her face toward the window. 
 Frightened though she was, the girl s quick 
 resentment was roused by this violence. With 
 an impatient gesture she flung the artist s 
 hands from her shoulders, so that as Prince 
 Kharkof entered the tableau presented to 
 his eyes was that of a pretty peasant girl 
 coquettishly freeing herself from the impor 
 tunate arms of a gay young knight of the 
 automobile. 
 
 He glanced at the pair and grunted. His 
 wicked eyes rested for a moment on the 
 graceful figure of the girl, which even the 
 shapeless costume could not entirely conceal. 
 "Pouf!" said he, and walking to the 
 ticket-booth he rapped sharply on the closed 
 shutter and swore. Then he turned and 
 looked at Deane. 
 
 81
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " Can you tell me, Monsieur, when the 
 next train leaves for San Malo?" he asked 
 gruffly. 
 
 "At a quarter to six, Monsieur," an 
 swered Deane, eying him warily. 
 
 The Prince raised his heavy eyebrows, 
 then looked sharply at the young man. Dur 
 ing their interview of the previous nig*ht 
 Deane had worn his winter lunettes, the flaps 
 of which concealed his features, but he saw 
 at once that the Russian recognized his 
 voice. 
 
 " Tiensl" said he. " Are you not the gen 
 tleman who kindly assisted me last night with 
 the loan of a pump?" 
 
 Deane bowed. " I had that honor," said 
 he. "I trust that you had no further dif 
 ficulty. We were less fortunate, as our 
 motor began to act badly immediately you 
 had proceeded." 
 
 "That is too bad," growled the Prince. 
 "Accidents are often contagious." His 
 swarthy face darkened, then his small twin 
 kling eyes shifted to the Countess, whose 
 back was still turned to him. 
 
 " These women ! " he said, as if to himself, 
 
 82
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 then muttering something in Russian which 
 Deane could not understand, he touched his 
 hat in a perfunctory way and plunged out 
 through the door. Fearing that he might 
 catch a glimpse of the Countess face 
 through the window, Deane snatched the 
 girl away with more force than ceremony. 
 
 The Countess turned upon him furiously. 
 " How dare you drag me around like that! " 
 she demanded with a vicious stamp of her 
 foot. 
 
 Deane did not reply. He was intently 
 watching the Prince, who climbed into his 
 car, threw in the clutch and, trundling 
 slowly across the square, disappeared 
 through the arch of what appeared to be the 
 garage of a hotel. 
 
 "Answer me!" cried the Countess pas 
 sionately. 
 
 "What?" said Deane, his eyes still fol 
 lowing the disappearing car. 
 
 " I wish you to understand," said the 
 Countess, " that Prince or no Prince, I will 
 not submit to being pushed and pulled 
 about 
 
 "Nonsense!" said Deane sharply. "If 
 83
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 he had seen your face, do you know what 
 would have happened? He would have 
 grabbed you up as a lion takes a cub, thrown 
 you into that car, and there would have been 
 an end to your freedom and all of this 
 trouble for nothing!" 
 
 " What would you have done if he had? " 
 asked the Countess, looking at him aslant. 
 
 "What your Cousin Sam did yesterday 
 hit him on the jaw. But I m afraid that 
 it would not have been equally effective. I 
 never took boxing lessons with a prize 
 fighter." 
 
 iThe Countess surveyed him critically. 
 "Do you know," said she, "I would rather 
 like to see you fight?" 
 
 " Little savage ! Perhaps you may before 
 this business is finished, though I sincerely 
 hope not." 
 
 " I wonder if you could," said the Count 
 ess thoughtfully. Her blue eyes examined 
 the well-groomed, faultlessly-dressed figure, 
 and she laughed with a shade of irony. 
 
 " I should like to see you rumpled up ! " 
 said she. You look now as if you had just 
 come from a reception, instead of having 
 
 84
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 driven a car half the night and sat with your 
 back against a tree for the other half. I 
 suppose " her red lip curled scornfully 
 * that you are a very great ladies man!" 
 
 " I try to be agreeable," said Deane. 
 
 " And it is only when you get some poor 
 girl who is alone and unprotected and 
 hounded" the Countess voice quavered 
 "that you become rough and cross and 
 brutal " 
 
 "When a good many men," interrupted 
 Deane, "would be gentle and affectionate 
 and, perhaps, even demonstrative. Which 
 do you think that you would prefer under 
 your peculiar circumstances?" 
 
 The Countess dropped her eyes and 
 turned half from him. 
 
 You you always make me act like a 
 fool ! At least you make me look I mean, 
 
 feel I mean Oh, you are so superior, 
 
 and sure, and and The Countess 
 
 turned her back upon him and looked out of 
 the window. 
 
 Deane studied her in some perplexity. He 
 reflected that the high spirit of the girl 
 had probably been suffering all day from the 
 
 85
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 consciousness of her utter dependence upon 
 him, a stranger. It occurred to him also that 
 her pride had no doubt been stung by the 
 humiliation of her peasant-girl disguise. The 
 fragmentary remarks and sly glances with 
 which the people whom they had passed had 
 been pleased to favor them were none of 
 them lost upon the Countess. Then the 
 brusqueness of his own treatment of her 
 when Kharkof appeared upon the scene had 
 no doubt strained her slight remaining pa 
 tience almost to its limits. 
 
 Thinking that, perhaps, a little solitary re 
 flection might do her no harm in her present 
 temper, and also because he wished to learn 
 more of Kharkof s plans, he decided to leave 
 her for a short time. 
 
 "I am afraid, Countess," said he, "that 
 
 f you are getting a bit bored with me. Do 
 
 you mind if I leave you for a few minutes? 
 
 I want to find out, if I can, what the Prince 
 
 is up to." 
 
 The Countess did not reply. 
 
 " I will be back immediately," said Deane. 
 " Please wait here." 
 
 He left the waiting-room and, crossing the 
 .86
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 square, entered the hotel. Passing through 
 to the cafe, he saw the car in the court and 
 the Prince standing beside it talking to a 
 man who appeared to be the chef de garage. 
 Their conversation reached the artist quite 
 plainly through the open windows. 
 
 * Replenish the essence and lubricating 
 oil," said the Prince, "and clean the carbu 
 reter. That is all. Do not touch the motor." 
 
 "I am going to San Malo on the next 
 train and will return for the car to-morrow 
 or the day after, but it is possible that I may 
 send some one for the car at any hour. See 
 to it that there is no delay." 
 
 ff Bon. Here are two louis for you. Take 
 care that you do not go off and leave the 
 garage locked up ! " 
 
 " Merci, merci, M sieu. It shall be as you 
 command." 
 
 The Prince started to leave the yard, when 
 he caught sight of Deane. He turned to the 
 chef de garage. 
 
 ff Dites done! The valves of my pump 
 are no good. Get a new one and leave it 
 
 87
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 in the car." He glanced at Deane. " That 
 was very good of you last night. We were 
 in a bad place to get a panne, and at a bad 
 time of the night. It was cursedly annoy 
 ing." His face grew savage and he turned 
 upon his heel and entered the cafe. 
 
 Deane returned to the Countess, whom he 
 found in a condition of ill-restrained excite 
 ment. Her pique was quite forgotten in the 
 interest of a fresh discovery. 
 
 " There is a spy watching the railroad sta 
 tion ! " she whispered breathlessly. " He has 
 been loitering about the platform, and when 
 the ticket-seller arrived I overheard him 
 questioning him about the people to whom he 
 had sold tickets this morning." 
 
 "Where is he now?" 
 
 " I think that he is on the front platform 
 *h-h-h!" 
 
 The door upon the other side of the room 
 opened softly and there entered a tall, sallow 
 man who, from his dress and general ap 
 pearance, suggested the provincial advocate. 
 Passengers for the train were beginning to 
 arrive, and at these he glanced quickly and 
 keenly. His eyes lingered for an instant 
 
 88
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 upon the artist and his companion, then, 
 with an indifferent glance at the Countess, 
 he turned and went out again. 
 
 " You are right," said Deane. " That fel 
 low is a spy but I do not think that he 
 suspects anything." 
 
 " What did you learn? " asked the Count 
 ess. 
 
 " The Prince is going to San Malo by our 
 train. What his plans are beyond that I do 
 not know. Very possible he thinks that you 
 may get aboard the train at some way-sta 
 tion along the route. As the case stands, I 
 am afraid that prudence will compel us to 
 get to Dinan in some other way. The dan 
 ger of his recognizing you is too great." 
 
 "But what other way is there? " asked the 
 Countess. 
 
 " I have been turning the situation in my 
 mind," said the artist calmly, "and I have 
 about decided to borrow the Prince s car." 
 
 The Countess stared, then her pretty face 
 grew red wfth anger. 
 
 Your little joke does not amuse me," 
 said she coldly. 
 
 "Why will you persist in doing me in-
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 justice?" asked Deane. "I am quite in 
 earnest. The Prince has left the car in the 
 garage across the street, and I am quite 
 sure that I will have no difficulty in obtain 
 ing the use of it for two or three hours. I 
 can take you to Dinan and get back before 
 he arrives at San Malo! " 
 
 The blue eyes of the Countess opened very 
 wide; she surveyed the young man with an 
 admiration which was not unmixed with awe. 
 
 " For simple, unembarrassed impudence," 
 said she, "yqu r are quite a revelation to all 
 European principles. But why don t you 
 ask him to have his lamp repaired before 
 you borrow his car? " 
 
 "It would take too long, and we simply 
 must get to Dinan this evening. However, 
 I will insist upon his supplying us with a new 
 pump. It would be very annoying to have 
 to stop upon the road." 
 
 The Countess stared at her companion, 
 then, dropping her face into her hands, 
 fought hard to smother her laughter; but 
 to Deane the situation was far too precarious 
 for mirth. 
 
 "We had better remain here until the 
 90
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 train goes," said he, " and make sure that the 
 Prince goes with it. Then I will go over 
 and see what I can do about the car." 
 
 The Countess did not reply. Instead, she 
 let her eyes rest thoughtfully upon the clean- 
 cut, thoroughbred features of the artist. 
 Suddenly he glanced up, his clear, gray eyes 
 looked into the girl s, and they both laughed. 
 Then the color swept into the Countess face 
 and her eyes softened wonderfully. She 
 turned slightly away, and, resting her elbow 
 on the window-sill, looked out through the 
 grimy pane. 
 
 Presently, Deane, who was studying the 
 charming profile presented to him with a 
 deep interest which was not purely profes 
 sional, saw the color fade swiftly from the 
 girl s cheek. 
 
 "He s coming!" she whispered. Deane 
 glanced at his watch. 
 
 " It is almost train-time," said he. 
 
 The Prince entered, stepped to the ticket- 
 booth and purchased a ticket, then went out 
 upon the front platform, where he was 
 joined by the sallow gentleman of legal ap 
 pearance, to whom he appeared to be giving 
 
 91
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 the most minute instructions. They were 
 still talking when the train clamored in. The 
 passengers scrambled aboard, the Prince 
 among them, the guards squawked lipon 
 their childish trumpets, the locomotive 
 squealed, the chef de garage tooted upon 
 his little horn, and the train rattled off 
 again. 
 
 " Now," said Deane, " as soon as quiet is 
 restored I will start upon my criminal un 
 dertaking." 
 
 "How do you propose to go about it?" 
 asked the Countess. 
 
 " I shall tell the man in charge that at the 
 last moment my friend, the Prince, with 
 whom he saw me talking, desired me to meet 
 him with the car at Dinan. Then this even 
 ing, when I return the car, I will tell him I 
 must have misunderstood the Prince, that 
 there was some mistake, and caution him 
 that the less said about it the better." 
 
 The Countess sighed. " I am sure," said 
 she, "that you are a young man who de 
 serves to succeed ! " 
 
 Again their eyes met and again they both 
 laughed, but this time the blood flared up in 
 
 92
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 the face of the artist also. The Countess 
 sighed. 
 
 " While you were in the hotel," said she, 
 " a very nice-looking man, either an English 
 man or an American, came in and studied the 
 train schedule. He looked at me so hard 
 that I thought he was going to speak to me. 
 I would not have minded much if he had, be 
 cause I was very lonely and he looked so 
 very well-bred and agreeable." 
 
 " I plainly see," said Deane coldly, " that 
 it is not safe to leave you alone." 
 
 "Not if you have been cross with me," 
 said the Countess plaintively. 
 
 " If I am ever cross with you," replied the 
 artist gently, " it is because I have your wel 
 fare so much at heart." 
 
 "Why?" asked the Countess demurely. 
 
 " Because I eh you are very that is, 
 you see, you are under my protection 
 and " 
 
 The Countess eyes softened. "You are 
 good!" she exclaimed, impulsively holding 
 out both hands to the young man. " Thank 
 you!" 
 
 Deane, quite overcome, took the two small 
 93
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 hands in his and looked into the girl s eyes. 
 Exactly what the situation might have de 
 veloped it is impossible to say, for at that 
 moment the door of the room was flung open 
 and a tall young man entered hurriedly. 
 
 At sight of the tableau presented he 
 stopped short, his eyes opened very wide and 
 his lean, square jaw dropped with amaze 
 ment. 
 
 "Upon my word!" he cried in harsh 
 American. " So this is the way you spend 
 your time after inciting me to assault and 
 battery and burning up my money in tele 
 grams trying to find your corpse!" 
 
 " Sam! " cried the startled Mr. Deane, still 
 clinging to the hands of the Countess. 
 
 "Philandering as usual," continued Mr. 
 Smalley cuttingly. " If it isn t a Countess 
 it s a pretty peasant, and if it s neither it s 
 some one else. Come, kiss the girl and give 
 her ten sous and let s get out of this. I ve 
 had the d dest night! And all on ac 
 count of you, confound you ! You and your 
 Countess " 
 
 "Sam! Shut up!" cried the horrified ar 
 tist. " Don t you see 
 
 94
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " No, I don t! " cut in Mr. Smalley irately; 
 " and if I d known that your grande passion 
 at first sight was going to be so easily short- 
 circuited by a pretty ankle and a pair of 
 rosy cheeks 
 
 "Sam! You everlasting chump 
 
 The agonized artist made so wild a rush at 
 his angry friend that Mr. Smalley stepped 
 quickly aside. The next instant Deane had 
 grabbed him roughly by the shoulder. The 
 Countess had risen to her feet as majestically 
 as an ill-fitting bodice and a very short skirt 
 would permit and w r as regarding the two 
 young men with her blue eyes almost black 
 from anger. Her face was quite pale and 
 her lower lip was clenched in her white, even 
 teeth. 
 
 "Can t you see?" cried the wretched Mr. 
 Deane. " This is the Countess Roubanoff ! " 
 
 "It is?" cried the startled Mr. Smalley. 
 " Well, upon my word ! " 
 
 For an instant he surveyed the angry 
 beauty in mingled wonder and amusement. 
 Then, with some effort, he controlled a vio 
 lent inward emotion and bowed. 
 
 " Countess Roubanoff," said Deane, des- 
 95
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 perately, " permit me to present Mr. Smal- 
 ley eh your eh, Cousin Sam!" 
 
 The faintest quiver appeared upon the 
 corners of the girl s mouth. She nodded 
 slightly in response to the respectful bow of 
 Mr. Smalley. 
 
 "Mr. eh Mr. " She turned in 
 
 some vexation to the artist. " What is your 
 name, please ? " 
 
 "My name!" cried Deane, by this time 
 hopelessly demoralized. "Oh eh my 
 
 name " He looked helplessly at his 
 
 friend. " What the deuce is my name, Sam 
 oh, Deane, of course 
 
 "Mr. Deane," continued the Countess, 
 biting her lip, " tells me that we are related." 
 
 "Ah yes," replied Mr. Smalley placidly. 
 " My mother s ah great-uncle, I believe it 
 was, was your ah maternal grandmother s 
 ah sister, or wife, or something." 
 
 " Oh, I see," said the Countess in a creamy 
 voice. " That was why you were both so de 
 termined to rescue me." 
 
 "Of course," said Mr. Smalley gravely. 
 "One must stand by one s relatives, you 
 know." 
 
 96
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 The two looked at each other; then the 
 lips of both began to twitch. Then, as if 
 moved by the same impulse, they turned and 
 regarded the unhappy Deane, who was look 
 ing from one to the other in a crumbled sort 
 of way, and his lips began to twitch also. All 
 three faces grew very red and, suddenly, a 
 shout of laughter from the men and a clear, 
 rollicking peal from the Countess burst out 
 spontaneously, and the situation was at once 
 relieved. 
 
 "We looked for you very eagerly last 
 night, Cousin Sam," said the Countess, 
 touching her eyes with her handkerchief. 
 
 "I was nearly frantic!" said Smalley. 
 " There was no difficulty with the chauffeur, 
 poor chap, but in my excitement I started 
 off on third and snapped my crank-shaft 
 like a pipe-stem. There I was en panne! 
 By and by a chap came along and took me 
 in tow. I stopped at the first inn we struck, 
 a villainous place on the edge of the town, 
 and there the car is now, with Serge in 
 charge. He has decided to quit the service 
 of the Prince and enter mine. I shall sack 
 that amorous Cockney!" His keen eyes 
 
 97
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 rested curiously upon the Countess. " How 
 did you two manage? " 
 
 They quickly told the story of their adven 
 tures, at which Smalley laughed. 
 
 " I should have seen that you were not a 
 peasant at once," he said to the Countess, 
 "if I had not been so vexed. As it was, I 
 simply thought that Archie was up to his 
 old tricks eh " 
 
 "His old what?" asked the Countess 
 quickly. 
 
 "Oh eh you know, Countess, artists 
 have a way," began Mr. Smalley, avoiding 
 the menacing eye of his friend, " of going 
 about with one eye^n the alert for a new 
 and interesting type of eh face, and 
 when they find one which interests them they 
 are apt to engage its owner in eh conver 
 sation, sometimes playing upon the emotions 
 for the sake of developing new expressions, 
 I presume " 
 
 " Oh, rot! " growled the infuriated Deane. 
 
 The Countess glanced at him as one 
 might at some new and interesting rep 
 tile. 
 
 Yes?" she said, turning expectantly to 
 98
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 Mr. Smalley. " How very interesting. And 
 what then Cousin Sam?" 
 
 " If we are going to get to Dinan to 
 night," growled Deane, "we had better 
 start!" 
 
 "Then," said Mr. Smalley, utterly dis 
 regarding the interruption, " they take men 
 tal notes." 
 
 " What kind of notes? " asked the Count 
 ess. 
 
 " Mental notes they call them." 
 
 "But isn t that very difficult?" asked the 
 girl. " Fancy, mental notes ! " 
 
 " It is not difficult for most people," an 
 swered Smalley, " but Deane has often said 
 that it was for him. That is probably why 
 he requires so much practice." 
 
 Deane rose to his feet. " Since there is no 
 assistance to be looked for from your Cousin 
 Sam, Countess," he said, laying infinite sar 
 casm upon the word " cousin," " I will reluc 
 tantly leave you in his care while I see 
 what can be done in regard to transporta 
 tion." 
 
 " Why not borrow the Prince s car? " sug 
 gested Mr. Smalley. " It is over in the 
 
 99
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 garage and I have a man who thoroughly 
 understands it! " he added with a grin. 
 
 " That is precisely what I was about to 
 do!" said Deane. "We had foolishly 
 counted upon you, but since you have gone 
 and smashed your car just at the critical mo 
 ment there is nothing else to do. I must say, 
 I don t see how you managed it! Any be 
 ginner would know better than that ! A nice 
 mess you ve got your cousin in! " 
 
 The lean, hard face of Mr. Smalley grew 
 glum. Like a good many young men of 
 wealth and no occupation, he took the seri 
 ous things of life lightly and his pastimes 
 very seriously. Of late years the one thing 
 upon which he had come to pride himself 
 was his complete mastery of motor-cars. To 
 add to his chagrin, his New England con 
 science told him that the rebuke was entirely 
 deserved. 
 
 " There must have been a flaw in that " 
 
 he began. 
 
 "There was a flaw in your judgment!" 
 said Deane bitterly. " Fancy trying to start 
 a big car " 
 
 " Oh, well," said Mr. Smalley vexedly, " I 
 100
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 acknowledge that I made a slight error in 
 judgment, " 
 
 "A slight error!" echoed his friend, who 
 was still smarting from the witticisms of the 
 other. " Oh, puff ! What do you call slight ? 
 A crank-shaft? What do you expect to run 
 your car by, anyhow? Moral suasion, or 
 animal magnetism, or " 
 
 " Oh, chuck it! " said Mr. Smalley wearily. 
 "I ve gone and done it and know it, and 
 now I am ready to make good. What do 
 you want me to do? Wheel my cousin to 
 Dinan in a push-cart?" 
 
 "We have wasted time enough in flip 
 pancy," said Deane, glancing at the Count 
 ess, who was looking from one to the other 
 of the young men with very large, round, 
 blue eyes. "Do you remember that sharp 
 turn in the road w r here it goes up that steep 
 little grade just before you come into the 
 town?" 
 
 " Perfectly," said Mr. Smalley. " We had 
 to get out and push there. My car is stabled 
 just this side of that place." 
 
 " Then take the Countess with you," said 
 Deane, " and meet me there in about half an 
 101
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 hour. You can stop on the way and get the 
 Prince s chauffeur. We don t want to snap 
 any more crank-shafts? " 
 
 " But how do you know that you can get 
 the Prince s car ? " began Mr. Smalley. 
 
 " Oh, puff! You do your part and I will 
 do mine. You have failed me once, and by 
 blue, if you ever fail me again it will be the 
 last time that I ever take the trail with you 
 after any more kidnaped Countesses," said 
 Mr. Deane impressively. He turned to the 
 girl. 
 
 " I hate to turn you over to any such irre 
 sponsible person, Countess," said he; "but 
 needs must when your Cousin Sam drives! " 
 He turned to his friend. " Don t you leave 
 her for a minute! for a second! Do you un 
 derstand? Now let s go we ve wasted time 
 enough already." 
 
 Nodding to his thoroughly subjugated lis 
 teners, Mr. Deane went out of the door and 
 crossed the square to the hotel, where he 
 seated himself at a table on the terrace. 
 
 " Send me the chef de garage," he said 
 to the garpon as the latter was pocketing a 
 very lavish tip. 
 
 102
 
 KIIAKKOF
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " Oui } M sieu" The waiter disappeared 
 and returned in a few moments with the 
 somewhat reluctant functionary, -who wore 
 an expression which seemed to say that 
 money might pay for this concession, but 
 that it would take considerable. 
 
 Deane glanced at him indifferently, then 
 slowly and absently finished his drink. 
 
 "Via, Wsleiic est M sieu le chef de 
 garage" said the garcon nervously. 
 
 "Eh bien" replied Deane impatiently. 
 " That is all you may go! " 
 
 The waiter vanished. Deane glanced lan 
 guidly at the man in front of him. 
 
 "M sieu desires something?" asked the 
 fellow ominouslyc 
 
 "If I had not," said Deane curtly, "do 
 you think that I would have gone to the 
 trouble of sending for you? Monsieur le 
 Prince" he continued irritably, " at the very 
 last moment called to me from the train to 
 take his cursed car to Dinan, or San Malo, 
 or some place I do not know! " He shook 
 the hand holding the cigarette irritably. 
 "Get it ready!" 
 
 The man s whole demeanor underwent a 
 
 103
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 change. He appeared to draw in at the 
 corners like a turtle. 
 
 "But, Monsieur " 
 
 " But what? " said Deane sharply. " Is not 
 the car ready to start at once? Ah, yes 
 there was a pump or something to be bought. 
 Never mind. Take one out of any car and 
 say that it was stolen. This will pay for 
 it." He tossed the man a note for fifty 
 francs. " If there is anything left it is for 
 you, and this" he handed another note of 
 the same denomination " is for you if you 
 bring the car around within ten minutes!" 
 
 "Herd, M sieu the car will be here!" 
 The man hurried off effervescing acknowl 
 edgments, leaving Mr. Deane to reflect 
 upon the singularly direct relations between 
 money, in the abstract and concrete, and any 
 thing belonging or appertaining to the au 
 tomobile. 
 
 At the end of the allotted ten minutes 
 Deane descended to the yard of the garage, 
 where he found the keeper in the act of 
 " cranking up." Being perfectly acquainted 
 with this type of car, the artist made a suc 
 cessful start, and, picking his way carefully 
 
 104
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 tnrough the narrow street, quickly arrived 
 at the place of rendezvous. There was no 
 one in sight, but as he drew up and horned 
 a man whom he at once recognized as the 
 former chauffeur of the Prince came out 
 from behind the hedge and saluted him. 
 
 "Where is M. Smalley?" demanded 
 Deane. 
 
 " He told me to wait here and tell you that 
 he would come at once, Monsieur. He wished 
 to examine something about the car." 
 
 " Imbecile! " muttered Deane, twisting his 
 mustache nervously. Even while on his 
 way from the hotel he had been conscious of 
 an odd and disagreeable sense of impend 
 ing ill which was by no means allayed by 
 the absence of Mr. Smalley and the 
 Countess. 
 
 For five minutes he sat in the car, his 
 anxiety rapidly increasing. At last it be 
 came insupportable, and he was about to re 
 turn on foot and investigate the cause of 
 the delay when the chauffeur observed: 
 
 " Monsieur is coming now. He is run 
 ning." 
 
 A thrill of horror swept through the art- 
 
 105
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 1st. He leaned out and looked back in the 
 direction from which he had come, when, to 
 his sickening dismay, he beheld Mr. Smalley 
 tearing down the road. In a second he had 
 leaped out of the car and dashed to meet 
 him. 
 
 "Where is she?" gasped Deane. Smal- 
 ley s tanned face was pale and his eyes 
 bulging from fright and exertion. 
 
 "Where is she?" cried Deane. 
 
 "I don t know!" panted the wretched 
 Mr. Smalley. "She s gone!" 
 
 "Gone! Gone where? Gone how? Who 
 took her?" The voice of the artist was so 
 savage that his friend shrunk away from 
 him. 
 
 " Do you think that I d be here if I knew, 
 Archie?" cried the agonized Mr. Smalley. 
 
 "But you must know!" snarled Deane. 
 * You didn t leave her, did you? " 
 
 Mr. Smalley stepped back, startled at the 
 ferocity in the face of his usually tranquil 
 friend. 
 
 " I I did leave her for for a few min 
 utes, Archie," he wailed. "I I wanted to 
 
 see something about the car " 
 
 106
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 The frantic artist wasted at least twenty 
 seconds of priceless time in a frenzied ob 
 jurgation of Mr. Smalley, his car, his faith 
 lessness of character and neglect of trust, 
 after which, telling the chauffeur to wait 
 with the automobile, he seized his jaded 
 friend by the shoulder and pushed him in 
 the direction whence he had come. 
 
 "Show me where you left her!" he 
 growled. 
 
 " She was standing in the court beside the 
 back door of the inn," panted Mr. Smalley 
 as they hastened along. " I was scarcely out 
 of earshot " 
 
 "Were you working at the car?" de 
 manded Deane, glancing at the grimy hands 
 of his false friend. 
 
 "A little I might have been ham 
 mering," acknowledged Smalley, sheep 
 ishly. "But I was not gone over ten min- 
 utes- 
 
 " Ten minutes oh, my soul ! " The art 
 ist groaned in anguish. 
 
 " And when I came back she was gone 
 vanished into thin air. Of course I tore 
 
 around asking every one I saw " 
 
 107
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "The worst thing you could have done. 
 Here we are!" 
 
 They had reached the inn, a rambling, 
 slovenly old road-house, which looked as if 
 it might have been a very pretentious house 
 in _ the middle of the fourteenth century. 
 The walls were very thick, with long embra 
 sures for archers or musketeers, and doors 
 and gates of both house and yard were 
 grilled. In the rear was a roughly-paved 
 court, flanked by dirty outhouses and sur 
 rounded by a massive wall. 
 
 "Dismal hole!" said Smalley; "but it 
 looked good to us about three o clock this 
 morning when we reached here in tow of a 
 cabbage-cart. The car is in that stable." 
 
 Deane looked about him narrowly. " And 
 the Countess," said he, "is in that house!" 
 He pointed to the inn. 
 
 "What makes you think so? Hang it, 
 I wish that brute would stop blowing that 
 beastly horn." 
 
 From the kitchen of the inn there had 
 risen the wailing, lugubrious notes of a 
 French cor de chasse, a sweet and melancholy 
 instrument when heard at a distance and 
 
 108
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 played by a skillful performer, but a veri 
 table instrument of torture in the hands of a 
 novice. In the present case the notes issuing 
 from the horn suggested the trumpeting of 
 a she-elephant deprived of her calf. To add 
 to the harrowing result, the mournful strains 
 had stirred the soul of every dog within its 
 reach, and the animals were voicing their 
 emotions from all about the place. 
 
 In the irritated condition of his nerves the 
 tumult was maddening to Mr. Smalley. He 
 started for the kitchen door. 
 
 " If gold cannot silence that row," said he, 
 " force will have to! " 
 
 "Wait," said Deane sharply. "Perhaps 
 the fellow is not making that noise entirely 
 for fun." 
 
 "What is that?" cried Mr. Smalley, his 
 face growing suddenly tense. You mean 
 that you think that 
 
 " Listen what is that? " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 That cry or scream or howl " 
 
 Both men listened intently. The horn was 
 clamoring, dogs howling, and from some 
 where in the front of the inn came a clamor 
 109
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 of men s voices. Yet, woven into the riot 
 there was an alien note which, as it reached 
 the ears of the artist, turned his face a shade 
 paler and produced a peculiar tingling sen 
 sation at the nape of his neck. He glanced 
 inquiringly at his companion. Mr. Smal- 
 ley s face was also a trifle paler than be 
 fore. 
 
 " I heard it then," said he, moistening his 
 lips. " It may be a dog, but it sounded like 
 like " 
 
 " A woman ! " said Deane. " Listen ! " 
 
 They listened intently. The horn re 
 doubled its clamor, the curs likewise, but the 
 sound which had so stirred their pulses was 
 not repeated. 
 
 "Where was the girl standing when you 
 left her?" asked Deane. 
 
 "Just a little this side of that kitchen 
 door." 
 
 Deane s eyes searched every detail of the 
 inclosure. The rough cobbles with which the 
 court was paved presented nothing for ex 
 amination ; the drab wall was equally inscrut 
 able, and looking at the black, narrow win 
 dows at the rear of the inn was like peering 
 no
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 into so many rat-holes. All conjecture 
 seemed to centre upon the low, back door 
 which apparently opened into the kitchen, 
 whence still proceeded the diabolical clamor- 
 ings of the horn. Deane walked toward it 
 slowly, observing as he did so that the case 
 ment had been newly whitewashed. As his 
 eyes wandered searchingly to the windows 
 above, Smalley, who was standing by his 
 side, studying the door, gripped him fiercely 
 by the arm. 
 
 "Look!" said he, pointing at the rough 
 wooden casement, which was fitted clumsily 
 into the heavy, stone aperture of the door. 
 
 Deane looked, and his heart gave a tre 
 mendous bound, for there, scarring the fresh 
 whitewash of the woodwork, were the prints 
 of four small fingers which had obviously 
 been wrenched away in a vain effort to cling 
 to the rim of the doorway. 
 
 The two men exchanged glances. The 
 bony, angular features of Mr. Smalley were 
 set with the grimness of a death-mask, while 
 Deane s more mobile face was quivering 
 with a savage impatience. His clear, gray 
 eyes shone as green as two emeralds. 
 in
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "That settles it!" said he. "Where s 
 your cursed car? " 
 
 "My car " 
 
 " Yes. Have you got a couple of good, 
 heavy spanners?" 
 
 The light of comprehension blazed up in 
 the face of Mr. Smalley. 
 
 "Oho! "said he. " That s the game. Yes 
 I ve got just what we need. Come on! " 
 
 They quickly crossed the court, and Smal 
 ley, producing a large key, unlocked the sta 
 ble door. In a grim silence the two men 
 walked to the inert car and selected from the 
 tool-kit the two big steel spanners. Not 
 waiting to lock the door again, they recrossed 
 the court, and Deane, stepping to the kitchen 
 door, rapped sharply with the butt of his 
 weapon. 
 
 113
 
 IV 
 
 HE blatant clamoring of the horn 
 ceased suddenly, and it seemed to 
 the men listening outside as if the 
 very abruptness of its stop was 
 the signal for every dog in the neighbor 
 hood to carry on the melancholy refrain. A 
 deep-throated roar from the kitchen of the 
 inn led the chorus, and this was followed by 
 a sniffing and growling within which caused 
 Deane to tighten his grip on the spanner. 
 
 All at once the horn recommenced with 
 greater violence and wilder variations. 
 Deane raised his spanner and thundered on 
 the door, as if to beat it in. 
 
 " Ouvrez! Ouvrez la!" he bellowed. 
 Again the horn ceased. There was a scuf 
 fling about inside and the muttering of sev 
 eral voices, followed by the clattering of 
 sabots and the clinking of glass. 
 
 "Smash it in!" muttered Mr. Smalley. 
 Deane was about to comply when there was 
 the sound of a bolt shot and a rattle of the 
 us
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 latch. The door opened about a foot and a 
 villainous face beneath a shock head of hair 
 appeared in the aperture. 
 
 " Dites done! Is this the way you keep 
 your inn locking out your patrons?" de 
 manded Deane angrily. " Open the door." 
 
 The man, a heavy, loutish fellow, smooth- 
 shaven, like all Breton peasants, and with the 
 flat, Bigouden features suggestive of his 
 strange, Mongolian ancestry, muttered some 
 excuse and threw open the door. The dog, a 
 big, woolly, bobtailed sheep-herder, stood at 
 his heels growling for a moment, then made 
 a dash for the yard, where it circled with 
 barking howls. 
 
 Across the room two men, who appeared 
 to be ouvrierSj were sitting on a bench smok 
 ing, and a greasy-looking individual with a 
 hooked nose and pointed beard, who, from 
 his cap and apron, was evidently the chef, 
 stirred a pot, watching the two from the 
 corners of his eyes. 
 
 As Deane with Smalley at his elbow en 
 tered the room he glanced quickly about, tak 
 ing in the strategic features of the situation. 
 Through an open door which led to a buvette 
 
 114
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 in the front of the inn he caught a glimpse 
 of several rough-looking men, apparently 
 patrons of the place. One or two glanced 
 furtively in his direction, but most preserved 
 a sullen and watchful silence. 
 
 The artist stepped to this door, shut and 
 bolted it. He turned to the man who had let 
 them in. 
 
 " Now, my good fellow," said he, " bring 
 out that girl, and bring her out quickly!" 
 
 "What is that you say, M sieu ?" an 
 swered the fellow sullenly. 
 
 Deane stepped toward him, and the man, 
 apparently not liking the expression in the 
 eyes of the artist, backed a step and stood 
 with his hulking shoulders against the wall. 
 
 "Watch for a kick, Archie!" said Smal- 
 ley, in English. 
 
 "I am watching," said Deane. You 
 keep tabs on the rest of the outfit. I don t 
 intend to lose any time over this job!" 
 
 He stepped directly in front of the inn 
 keeper, the heavy spanner in his left hand 
 and his right clenched. 
 
 "I say," he repeated, "that you are to 
 bring out that peasant girl whom you have 
 us
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 hidden somewhere, and bring her out at 
 once!" 
 
 "I do not know what you are talking 
 about," growled the fellow. 
 
 "Look out for trouble, Sam!" said 
 Deane, without taking his watchful eyes 
 from the man. " Use your fists if you can ; 
 don t use the spanner unless you have to." 
 
 " Go ahead, my boy," replied Mr. Smal- 
 ley cheerfully. "I see nothing here which 
 will need the spanner." 
 
 " For the last time," said Deane, stepping 
 directly in front of the muttering innkeeper, 
 " I tell you to get the girl. Are you going to 
 doit?" 
 
 " I do not know of what you are talking," 
 mumbled the man. 
 
 The quick eye of the artist caught the sly 
 shifting of the fellow s bulk to one foot, and 
 warned him of what was coming la savate 
 the terrible, lashing kick, which is less a 
 kick than a swinging blow with the foot. 
 But the man was standing too close to the 
 wall to deliver it, and as he moved forward 
 Deane drove the end of the spanner into the 
 pit of his stomach. He doubled up and 
 116
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 dropped to the floor, for the moment hors de 
 combat. 
 
 "Look out!" cried Mr. Smalley, and 
 Deane whirled in his tracks just in time to 
 dodge a heavy iron pot hurled at him by the 
 cook. Before the fellow could lay hand on 
 another missile Smalley had leaped upon him 
 and dealt him a blow between the eyes which 
 quite destroyed all of the fight that was left 
 in him. Down he went across a bench, from 
 which he slipped and rolled upon the floor, 
 holding his face in his hands. 
 
 The two men who had been sitting upon 
 the settle had risen to their feet, but either 
 through fear or bewilderment had taken no 
 part in the scrimmage. 
 
 "Do you two belong to this inn?" de 
 manded Deane of one of them. 
 
 " No, M sieu . We stopped but for a pipe 
 and a glass of eau-de-vie." 
 
 " How long have you been here? " 
 
 " We have but just arrived, M sieu ." 
 
 "Do you know anything about a peasant 
 girl who has been made a prisoner here? " 
 
 The two faces became wooden in their 
 utter lack of expression. 
 117
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "No, M sieu , we do not know anything 
 about it." 
 
 Deane stared at them for an instant, then 
 pointed to the door. 
 
 " Go," said he, " if you do not want to be 
 arrested! The gendarmes are coming." 
 
 The word "gendarmes" had its usual 
 magical effect. The two men shambled 
 quickly to the door and went out. Deane 
 shut the door behind them and bolted it. 
 
 The cook was still sitting on the floor, 
 nursing his face. The innkeeper had clam 
 bered to his feet again and was standing 
 half -crouched, his palms against the wall, 
 glaring at the artist, upon whom he was pre 
 vented from rushing only by the heavy 
 weapon in the young man s hand. 
 
 "Now then, animal," said Deane, "will 
 you take us to the girl, or do you want a lit 
 tle more from the same bottle? Vite!" 
 
 " I tell you that there is no girl here. I 
 shall make you pay for this ! You have come 
 into my house by force and beaten me 
 and " 
 
 "Shut your mouth!" Deane planted 
 himself squarely in front of the man. 
 11$
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " Sam," said he, without looking around, 
 " shove the poker into the fire." 
 
 Smalley gasped. "What?" he cried. 
 "Thepoker- 
 
 " Yes, the poker ! Heat it up ! " 
 
 "But you can t torture the scoundrel, 
 Archie 
 
 " Will you heat up that poker, or must I ? 
 Do you realize that the Countess is some 
 where in this dive? You don t understand; 
 the Prince has nothing to do with this. It is 
 a different matter. This devil has the girl 
 locked up somewhere, but he is afraid to ad 
 mit it now, because it s a case of deportation 
 or the guillotine!" 
 
 Smalley s face blanched. Without a word 
 he walked to the hearth and shoved the poker 
 into the coals. 
 
 "If either of you move," said Deane in 
 a low voice, "we will beat your head inl" 
 He glanced at the cook, whose beady eyes 
 were glittering as if he were planning some 
 mischief. " Throw that cook out, Sam," he 
 continued. "We don t need him, and he 
 looks as if he were going to make a break of 
 some sort." 
 
 119
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " But suppose he gives the alarm? " 
 
 " No danger ! All he wants is to get away. 
 Besides, hot iron will open this dog s lips 
 quicker if he is alone! " 
 
 "But you don t really mean to use that 
 poker " 
 
 Deane s face set grimly. " I mean to have 
 the Countess out of here, and that mighty 
 quick! My Heavens, man!" he cried fren- 
 ziedly, "it may be too late now. Hurry; 
 chuck out that cursed cook! " 
 
 Smalley stepped to the door and threw it 
 open. There was nobody in sight. 
 
 fe Allez!" he said to the cook. The man 
 stared, then scrambled to his feet and scur 
 ried out. 
 
 " See if there is anybody in the buvette" 
 said Deane. His friend unbolted the door 
 and looked into the room. It was empty. 
 
 You see?" said Deane. "They know 
 that there has been some funny business, and 
 they have all cleared out. I will bet that 
 there is not a soul in the house. Did you no 
 tice that there were no women about the 
 place? That always looks significant. Give 
 me the poker!" 
 
 120
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 Smalley stepped to the hearth and drew 
 the poker from where he had laid it among 
 the coals. As he did so the innkeeper 
 spoke. 
 
 " I will take you to the girl, M sieu , if you 
 will let me go free," he whined; " if you will 
 not give me to the gendarmes." 
 
 "I will promise nothing," said Deane, 
 " but you will take me to the girl, or you will 
 never leave this room alive!" He reached 
 for the poker. 
 
 "Tiens!" snarled the man, shrinking 
 back. " I will take you to the girl." 
 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 " In the cellar. If M sieu will light the 
 lamp " 
 
 Smalley took a lamp from the table and 
 lighted it. 
 
 "Give me the lamp," said Deane, "and 
 you walk close behind this brute, and if he 
 makes a shifty move smash him. Look out 
 for tricks!" He turned to the innkeeper. 
 "Goon! Lead the way!" 
 
 The man walked unsteadily through the 
 buvette, then, opening a door, led them down 
 a long, dark passageway. Half-way to the 
 
 121
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 other end a flight of low, stone steps de 
 scended between two walls of rough ma 
 sonry and at the bottom stopped before a 
 damp, fungus-covered door which was ap 
 parently as old as the building itself. 
 
 Led by the innkeeper, they descended the 
 steps. Deane observed, without remarking 
 its significance, that the door was not bolted, 
 but simply on the latch. The innkeeper 
 threw it open and they looked into a black 
 void which reeked of mould and the pungent 
 odor of sour wine. 
 
 " Listen! " whispered Smalley. 
 
 From somewhere in the solid darkness 
 there came a faint sound of sobbing, appar 
 ently from behind thick walls. 
 
 " Countess ! " called Deane. " Countess 
 where are you?" 
 
 There was an instant of silence, then a 
 muffled voice came in answer. 
 
 " Here here oh, I knew that you would 
 come!" The sobbing broke out afresh, but 
 this time with a different note. 
 
 " Go on! " cried Deane harshly. " Count 
 ess," he cried, "are you hurt?" 
 
 "No no, only very frightened!" 
 
 122
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "Hurry!" said Deane to the innkeeper, 
 who was stumbling on ahead. 
 
 The man led the way through a sort of 
 winding lane between casks and barrels and 
 what appeared to be bins containing odds 
 and ends of ancient rubbish. By the dim 
 light of the lantern it seemed as if the refuse 
 accumulated in the cellar dated back as far 
 as the building above it, and in one corner 
 Deane caught a glimpse of an old Sedan- 
 chair with its musty trappings still attached. 
 Suddenly their guide said something in 
 patois. 
 
 " Keep quiet! " said Smalley, who was di 
 rectly behind the man. " There is somebody 
 over behind those casks, Archie," he added 
 in English. " Look out for a rush." 
 
 "If that fellow makes the slightest move," 
 said Deane savagely, "let him have it with 
 the spanner. We can t afford to take any 
 chances now!" He raised his voice : "We 
 are coming, Countess!" 
 
 Presently the innkeeper paused in front 
 of a heavy door fastened by a horizontal bar 
 in big iron staples. Deane had stepped for 
 ward and was holding the lamp above his 
 
 123
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 head, reaching with the other hand for the 
 bar, when some object came flying from out 
 the darkness, struck the lamp from his 
 hand and knocked it into a heap of rubbish. 
 It flared up brilliantly and in the blaze 
 Deane saw two figures clambering toward 
 him over some small casks. He gripped his 
 weapon and braced himself for the assault, 
 but at that moment Smalley was flung vio 
 lently against him, knocking him backward 
 so that he tripped upon something under 
 foot and fell, the spanner flying from his 
 hand. The flame from the lamp suddenly 
 expired and the whole place was plunged in 
 utter blackness. 
 
 Deane struggled to his feet. " Where are 
 you, Sam? " 
 
 "H-h-ere!" gasped a panting breath. 
 "S-s-trikealight!" 
 
 There was the sound of a scuffle, then the 
 clean impact of heavy blows, followed by a 
 smothered cry of pain. At his elbow Deane 
 heard someone groping and stumbling, and 
 muttering in patois. He stepped back warily, 
 then pulled out his match-box and was about 
 to strike a light when a flame shot up close at 
 
 124
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 hand, followed by a vivid blaze. The shat 
 tered lamp had ignited some inflammable 
 rubbish, which flared up fiercely. 
 
 The first thing to meet Deane s eyes, 
 blinded by the light, was the face of his 
 friend, who was lying across the body of the 
 innkeeper; the second was a burly fellow 
 who rushed at him head down. Deane 
 sprang aside and struck out with his fist. 
 The man went down, and the artist, without 
 waiting to see what was coming next, leaped 
 to the door behind which the Countess was 
 imprisoned and threw out the bar. As he 
 did so something came flying from the dark 
 ness and crashed against his forehead. The 
 shock staggered him, but he was able to re 
 cover himself enough to fling open the door. 
 
 By this time one corner of the cellar was a 
 mass of seething flame, and the foul air was 
 filled with pungent fumes. Deane wiped 
 his eyes, which were obscured by some smart 
 ing substance, and, catching a glimpse of 
 the Countess standing in the brilliant light, 
 drew her toward him. Smalley scrambled 
 to his feet. The only other person appeared 
 to be the innkeeper, who, even as Deane 
 
 125
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 glanced at him, climbed upon his legs and 
 rushed for the steps. 
 
 " Come ! " panted Smalley. " The place is 
 on fire!" 
 
 A fit of coughing seized Deane. Unable 
 to speak, he gripped the Countess by the 
 wrist and staggered toward the steps. Smal 
 ley, pausing to pick up the spanner which he 
 had dropped when he clinched with the inn 
 keeper, followed him. The light was now 
 obscured by the smoke, but there was enough 
 to enable them to grope their way, half- 
 smothered, to the door. Deane threw his 
 shoulder against it. 
 
 "Locked bolted!" he gasped. 
 
 " Look out! " cried Smalley, thrusting him 
 aside. With two heavy blows of the big 
 spanner he burst out the rotten panel, and 
 shoving his hand through, slid the bolt. The 
 next instant they were groping their way up 
 the stone steps. Not a soul was in sight as 
 they slipped out of the front door of the inn 
 and into the road. It was twilight and a fog 
 seemed to be driving in. Deane s head was 
 swimming and he was conscious of a smart 
 ing pain across the forehead, but he stag- 
 126
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 gered on, clinging to the wrist of the Count 
 ess. Smalley glanced at him sharply. 
 
 "Put on your lunettes!" said he; "your 
 face is all bloody! " 
 
 Deane obeyed mechanically. He was 
 dimly conscious that the Countess had made 
 some exclamation and that she was holding 
 him by one arm while Smalley half-led, half- 
 dragged him by the other. Suddenly the au 
 tomobile loomed up gigantic and grotesque 
 in front of him, and to the artist it seemed 
 to be swaying like a vessel in a heavy sea. 
 
 "Start the motor!" came Smalley s voice 
 in French and from a long distance away. 
 Instinctively Deane tried to stagger to the 
 front of the car, but some pressure from be 
 hind seemed urging him into a dark opening 
 before him. He lurched forward heavily, 
 heard a grinding, tearing sound, and then it 
 seemed to him that the earth had torn from 
 its axis and the entire planet was whirling 
 madly through space. With an infinite ef 
 fort he recovered his sense of the actuality 
 of things, and as he did so discovered that he 
 was propped in one corner of the limousine, 
 his head resting upon the shoulder of the 
 127
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 Countess, while her arm was about his neck. 
 For some bizarre reason his first apprecia 
 tion of this position was one of amusement. 
 He chuckled. 
 
 " You got that fight that you were wish 
 ing for ! " he mumbled, then slid gently into 
 utter oblivion. 
 
 
 
 Deane thought that he was driving a big, 
 new-model, six-cylinder comet of 150 che- 
 vaux, and was doing his little best to dodge 
 the other comets and pass without fouling 
 the small, two-cylinder stars and motor-cycle 
 meteorites which he overtook on his record- 
 smashing run from Polaris to the Southern 
 Cross, via La Vole Lactee. But the track 
 ( was greasy and the other comets showed no 
 sense of traffic regulations, and, to make 
 matters more confusing, Sam Smalley kept 
 repeating monotonously: "How are you 
 feeling now, old boy? How are you feeling 
 
 now until Deane became thoroughly 
 
 irritated. 
 
 "Oh, shut up!" he snapped, then opened 
 his eyes and looked about him in bewilder 
 ment., 
 
 128
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 He was lying upon a rug at the side of 
 the road. The stars were out and twinkling 
 brightly overhead and something disagree 
 ably tight was encircling his head. 
 
 "Where is the Countess?" were his first 
 words. Mr. Smalley laughed. 
 
 " Not such a great way off," said he dryly. 
 
 "I am here," said a soft voice, and the 
 artist discovered, with a quickening of the 
 heart-action which went far to restore him, 
 that his head was resting in the lap of the 
 girl herself, while one of her hands was 
 clasping his own. 
 
 " Oh," said he contentedly. " That s so. 
 We got you." 
 
 Yes," said the soft voice, " you have got 
 me." 
 
 "What happened?" asked the artist, 
 struggling to sit up. 
 
 ".Things," replied Mr. Smalley laconi 
 cally. 
 
 "Don t try to get up just yet!" mur 
 mured the Countess. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Deane, 
 much ashamed of his weakness. "Did I 
 faint, or something?" 
 129
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " You did both," said Mr. Smalley. " The 
 loss of a liter or so of blood will sometimes 
 make one faint. But it will do you no harm. 
 You were always a hot-headed young 
 man." 
 
 "For shame!" cried the Countess indig 
 nantly. "He is nothing of the sort and 
 besides, I should like to know where I would 
 be now if he were not ! " 
 
 The artist struggled again to assume a 
 less helpless position, and was this time suc 
 cessful. 
 
 "How do you feel?" asked the Countess 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Oh, I feel all right, thanks," answered 
 Deane untruthfully. "Just a little giddy 
 and horribly thirsty. What are you looking 
 at, Sam?" 
 
 "I am looking for a blaze," said Mr. 
 Smalley, " and very much disappointed that 
 I do not see it. There has been plenty of 
 time." 
 
 You ought to be glad," observed the 
 artist, " unless you are tired of your car." 
 
 "By George, I had forgotten all about 
 the car!" cried Mr. Smalley. "You don t 
 
 130
 
 
 
 
 
 SMAl.U .Y
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 see any sign of a fire over there, do you?" 
 he inquired anxiously. 
 
 " Never mind the fire, Cousin Sam," said 
 the Countess. "Go and get Mr. Deane a 
 drink of water." 
 
 Mr. Smalley filled a cup from a spring by 
 the roadside and, with his eyes turned fear 
 fully in the direction of the town, handed it 
 to the Countess, who held it to the lips of the 
 artist. 
 
 When he had emptied the cup four 
 times, Mr. Deane expressed his desire to 
 go on. 
 
 "Are you sure that you feel strong 
 enough?" asked the Countess. 
 
 " Perhaps, if he were to sit in front, the 
 breeze might revive him," suggested Mr. 
 Smalley. "I do not mind sitting inside 
 with my cousin, Archie," he added with a 
 grin. 
 
 "That is absurd!" said the Countess 
 sharply. " Suppose that he were to faint 
 again? He might pitch out into the 
 road!" 
 
 That is true," assented Mr. Smalley. 
 " Then we would have to stop again and pick 
 isii
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 him up. Besides, I fancy that he will be 
 more comfortable inside." 
 
 The Countess eyes flashed in the darkness, 
 but she did not answer. 
 
 Assisted by his friend, the artist got upon 
 his feet. For a moment his head swam and 
 he might have fallen had not the Countess, 
 who was watching him closely, thrown her 
 arm about his shoulders. 
 
 "Do you feel any stronger now?" asked 
 Mr. Smalley. 
 
 "Oh, I am all right!" answered Deane 
 irritably. "Just a bit unsteady. I must 
 have lost quite a lot of blood." 
 
 " Somebody smashed you in the head with 
 a bottle of wine," said Mr. Smalley, " and 
 cut an artery in your forehead. We had a 
 hard time to stop the leak." 
 
 " How can you be so heartless! " cried the 
 Countess indignantly. " Have you no sym 
 pathy?" 
 
 " Too much sympathy is not good for a 
 young man," replied Mr. Smalley enigmati 
 cally. " Otherwise I should 1 have kissed his 
 other hand " 
 
 " Will you please stop talking absurdities
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 and help me to get him into the car?" ex 
 claimed the Countess, stamping her foot an 
 grily. 
 
 Scorning all asistance, which was none the 
 less rendered him, Deane crawled into the 
 limousine and slumped down in the corner. 
 
 "Shall I get inside also?" asked Mr. 
 Smalley. " I can help to steady him when 
 the car sways." 
 
 " No," said the Countess decidedly. " You 
 can get up in front. You would not care if 
 his head went through the side of the car- 
 rossene, and, besides, he needs room to 
 stretch out." 
 
 " But where is he going to rest his head? " 
 persisted Mr. Smalley solicitously. 
 
 " I will take care of his head," replied the 
 Countess, in a tone somewhat more sharp 
 than the innocent query appeared to war 
 rant. You climb up in front and ask the 
 chauffeur to show you how to start a big car 
 without breaking something, Cousin Sam!" 
 
 "Pax oh, pax!" cried Smalley, hur 
 riedly complying with the girl s suggestion. 
 
 The Countess slammed the door and 
 turned the latch. The chauffeur started the 
 133
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 motor, climbed aboard and the car forged 
 slowly ahead. The artist wedged himself 
 back in his corner and closed his eyes, for his 
 head was still giddy. 
 
 "Lean against me," said the Countess, a 
 trifle breathlessly, "and rest your head on 
 my arm." 
 
 " I shall do nothing of the sort," muttered 
 the artist. " Suppose the thing begins to 
 bleed again?" 
 
 "Do you think that I am afraid of blood 
 when my my friend is hurt? I will tighten 
 the compress if it does! " 
 
 " I wish you would loosen the beastly 
 thing!" said Deane fretfully. "It hurts 
 like the mischief!" 
 
 "Poor fellow!" murmured the Countess 
 softly. "I don t dare loosen it; you haven t 
 any more blood to spare. Come don t be 
 silly; stretch out on the seat as much as you 
 can and let me steady your head in my 
 arms." 
 
 The chauffeur was -driving fast through 
 the darkness, and the swaying of the car was 
 throwing the artist s head against the cush 
 ions in a way that was intolerable. But, like 
 
 134
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 most men who have been always blessed with 
 robust health, he had, or thought he had, an 
 intense distaste for being coddled. If there 
 was any coddling to be done Mr. Deane had 
 always preferred to do it himself. 
 
 "I m all right, thanks," he answered, a bit 
 gruffly. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said the Countess. " Your 
 poor head is bobbing about like a duck on the 
 water. Come, don t act like a cross baby." 
 She placed her arms gently but firmly about 
 the shoulders of the astonished young man, 
 turned him sidewise upon the seat, then drew 
 him down until he was lying upon his side 
 with his bandaged head held firmly in her 
 arms. 
 
 " Is that better? " she asked. 
 
 " Lots. But it will tire you out." 
 
 " I don t tire easily. Things never tire me, 
 only people like Cousin Sam!" 
 
 " Sam likes to be an ass sometimes," mur 
 mured Deane. "He does it on purpose. 
 You must not mind " 
 
 " Don t talk ! " said the Countess. " Rest. 
 Try to get a nap." 
 
 The artist tried obediently, but either the 
 
 135
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 change of position or some other subtle cause 
 had so restored him that the need of sleep 
 became quite superfluous. His violent head 
 ache gradually subsided, and he became rap 
 idly more and more appreciative of the fact 
 that the Countess was gently stroking that 
 part of his head not covered by the 
 compress. 
 
 "Countess?" he asked presently. 
 
 Yes? Oh, I thought you were asleep." 
 
 You must be tired are you not?" 
 
 "No. Go to sleep!" 
 
 " I can t." 
 
 "Why not? Does the head still hurt 
 you?" She leaned over him, and Deane 
 could see her great eyes glowing through 
 the dusk of the limousine. She had flung off 
 the Breton coifFe, and a stray wisp of her 
 hair fell across his cheek. 
 
 " No," said he ; " it is not that." 
 
 "What is it, then?" 
 
 "Thinking too hard." 
 
 "What about?" 
 
 "You." 
 
 " But you must not. I am safe now," the 
 girl s voice softened, " thanks to you." 
 
 136
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " It was just as much Sam." 
 
 "Oh, was it, indeed? Was it Sam who 
 backed that great brute against the wall and 
 told him to give me up or " the Countess 
 low voice grew fierce "or he would never 
 leave the room alive? And when he refused, 
 was it Sam who said to" she shuddered 
 " to heat the poker tell me, would you have 
 used the poker?" The Countess shuddered 
 again. 
 
 " Oh, probably not. Sam is a great talker, 
 isn t he?" 
 
 " That is just it. He really tells things 
 and to hear you talk one would think that 
 you were meant to sit on a silk cushion with 
 a pink bow tied around your neck! Fancy 
 my wondering if you could fight ! " 
 
 " I can t. Sam is the scrapper. If I could 
 fight I would not be lying here like a sick 
 canary with my feathers ruffed up. Sam 
 did all the fighting, but he s not hurt." 
 
 * You must go to sleep 1 " said the Count 
 ess. "I forgot." 
 
 "Can t." 
 
 "Why not? What are you thinking of 
 now?" * 
 
 137
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " Still of you." 
 
 There was a moment s pause. Then the 
 Countess said softly: 
 
 " There is nothing more to think about 
 is there? If your friends can t harbor me, 
 and they really should not, I know of several 
 places 
 
 "It s not that. The Cuttings will never 
 let you go." 
 
 "What is it, then?" 
 
 Deane s heart beat wildly, but for the first 
 time in his life words utterly failed him. 
 There was another pause. 
 
 " Then there is nothing," said the Count 
 ess firmly. "You have been talking too 
 much and are getting excited. I can feel 
 your heart beat. Go to sleep, there s a 
 a 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 The girl did not reply. The big car tore 
 on through the night, rocking and swaying, 
 its single, blazing eye but half-seeing the 
 road. Trees and houses flitted by. ,The pow 
 erful motor ran with the rhythm of a solar 
 system. 
 
 Presently the artist sighed deeply. 
 
 138
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " In pain? " whispered the Countess, bend 
 ing lower. 
 
 " In a way yes." 
 
 " The head hurting again? " 
 
 "The head? Oh, dear, no! I d quite for 
 gotten that I had one." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " Do do you really want to know? " 
 
 There was a pause; then: "Yes," softly. 
 
 " Then then Countess? " 
 
 ;< Yes? " The mass of hair drooped lower, 
 and again a wisp trailed across the face of 
 the artist, and, once again, words which had 
 risen so effervescently to his lips so many 
 times hefore shamelessly deserted him. 
 
 "Aren t you getting tired?" he asked. 
 
 " No ! " replied the Countess, a bit shortly. 
 
 " Let me sit up ! " exclaimed the artist des 
 perately, attributing his unaccustomed em 
 barrassment and lack of courage to the help 
 lessness of his position. 
 
 " No. Keep still. You will start it bleed 
 ing again if you wriggle!" 
 
 " But you must be tired! " 
 
 "But I am not! The car is running 
 smoothly now. Why don t you go to sleep? " 
 139
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 Do you really want to know? " 
 Yes if you know yourself." 
 
 Well, then " 
 
 Yes?" 
 
 Then Countess " 
 
 " Stop * Countessing me. My name is 
 Diane. Call me that if you like. I think 
 that you have earned the right; don t you? " 
 
 " I don t think that I ve earned anything 
 but hard names, but, I must say, I like Diane 
 better than Countess." 
 
 " Very well why can t you sleep?" 
 
 "Can t you guess?" 
 
 " I don t want to guess. I want you to tell 
 me. Don t squirm so! You are harder to 
 hold than a fox-terrier!" 
 
 "Well, then, Count I mean Diane I 
 I love you ! " 
 
 There was a silence which lasted for at 
 least ten seconds ; then, to the utter confusion 
 of the artist, the Countess leaned back 
 against the cushions and began to laugh. 
 Spontaneous as her mirth appeared, how 
 ever, the ear of the young man was quick to 
 detect the falsity of its note. 
 
 "What are you laughing at?" he de- 
 
 140
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 manded, at the same time struggling to sit 
 upright. But a man curled up on his side in 
 the limousine of a swiftly-moving motor-car, 
 with a strong and determined young lady 
 gripping his head in both arms, is about as 
 powerless as a cab-horse down on the 
 asphalt. 
 
 "Stop wriggling!" cried the Countess, 
 still laughing. 
 
 " Then stop laughing," replied Deane. " I 
 must say, I don t see " 
 
 " Poor fellow! " interrupted the Countess. 
 "Do you always feel that you have to say 
 that? Or were you merely taking mental 
 notes " 
 
 " Hush, Diane ! " The breathless quaver 
 which gave the lie to the mockery in the girl s 
 voice imbued the artist with a sudden 
 strength. 
 
 He freed his head from the Countess* 
 arms and sat upright. 
 
 "Don t be silly, Diane!" he said, taking 
 both of her hands firmly in his. "I have 
 loved you from the moment that I first saw 
 you digging echille in the sand, and the only 
 wonder is that I have been able to keep from
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 telling you so half a dozen times. I did not 
 because well it did not seem quite fair 
 too much like asking a reward, you know, 
 for what should have been done anyway out 
 of mere chivalry. Now it is hard because 
 oh, because you might not care to hear it. 
 Do you?" 
 
 The Countess Diane tried feebly to with 
 draw her hands, but failed. Then she tried 
 somewhat breathlessly to speak, but failed 
 again. 
 
 " I don t suppose that it is right for me 
 to tell you how I love you, even now," con 
 tinued Deane; "because, after all, you have 
 only known me for a day twenty- four 
 hours! It seems longer than that and for 
 all you know of me I might be anything: an 
 opium fiend, or an ex-convict, or a card- 
 sharp, or " 
 
 "Hush oh, hush!" cried a low, sweet 
 voice. You know that I would trust you 
 absolutely and and I will believe you if 
 you tell me that you really, really love me! " 
 
 " Diane ! " cried the artist. " I adore you ! 
 I am mad about you ! That is what makes 
 
 it so hard to tell you, dear " 
 
 142
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "And you are not saying it because be 
 cause The Countess was leaning to 
 ward him, her lips quite close to his ear, for 
 the car was at a high rate of speed, the hum 
 of swiftly-moving machinery loud, and her 
 own voice a trifle faint. Before she could 
 finish her speech there was a sudden lurch 
 of the car, or it may have been natural af 
 finity, or, perhaps, some swift movement on 
 the part of the young man ; at any rate, the 
 artist found his arms full to overflowing of 
 the Countess, the answer to whose question 
 was given after a manner of such deep and 
 heartfelt sincerity that her last, lingering 
 doubt was swept away in a wild ecstasy of 
 conviction. 
 
 Presently the Countess observed with a 
 sigh which had in it nothing of sadness, but 
 was rather an effort to supply her system 
 with the requisite oxygen: 
 
 " AlorSj if you can still love me, hideous 
 as I am en Bretonne, perhaps you will tire 
 of me less soon than you have of the others ! " 
 
 "Darling, there are no others! There 
 never were! I did not love them I only 
 painted them!" 
 
 143
 
 The Countess Diane. 
 
 " And I suppose you will have to keep on 
 painting them?" 
 
 " And loving you ! " 
 
 " If you ever loved another woman," said 
 Diane fiercely, " do you know what I would 
 do?" 
 
 "Kill her?" 
 
 "Yes. And then " 
 
 "Kill me?" 
 
 "No," with a sob, "myself! Isn t it 
 p-p-pathetic " 
 
 " Don t you think that we are going dan 
 gerously fast?" asked Diane presently. 
 " We must be almost there ! " 
 
 Deane rapped sharply on the glass. 
 
 "For Heaven s sake, slow down!" he 
 cried. 
 
 " There is no danger! " shouted Mr. Smal- 
 ley in answer. 
 
 " Perhaps there s not but if you felt as 
 
 I do I guess you would want to take it a bit 
 easily." 
 
 " Not a doubt of it! " assented Mr. Smal- 
 ley, and even in the darkness his friend 
 could see him grin. 
 
 The car slowed down, 
 a 44
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 "Only think!" whispered the Countess. 
 " We will soon have to separate ! " 
 
 " We must be together as much as we can 
 until then!" said Mr. Deane, putting the 
 principle into immediate action. 
 
 " How soon," said the Countess, when op 
 portunity offered, " do you expect to start 
 upon your tour with Cousin Sam? " 
 
 " That is all off now." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because it would interfere with another 
 tour which I expect to make in about a 
 month." 
 
 "Another tour? Who with?" 
 
 "My wife." 
 
 The Countess breathed quickly. *Are 
 you going to be married as soon as that?" 
 she asked, with as much naivete as a very 
 rapid respiration would permit. 
 
 " I would not wait that long," said Mr. 
 Deane, " if it were not necessary for my 
 fiancee to first come of age." 
 
 "But don t you think," suggested the 
 Countess, " that a little more time might be 
 required thoroughly to convince yourself 
 that you are truly in love with her? " 
 145
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 " I wish," said the young man sadly, " that 
 I could be equally sure that she were as 
 
 much in love with me " 
 
 . "Isn t it wonderful!" whispered the 
 Countess, her lips a quarter of an inch from 
 the artist s ear. 
 
 "What, Diane?" 
 
 "That two people can love each other 
 
 . " I think," said a dry, sarcastic voice, " that 
 it is even more wonderful how a third per 
 son can he so utterly ignored as to " 
 
 " Sam I " cried the artist, awakening to the 
 fact that the car had stopped and that his 
 friend was standing beside it with the latch 
 of the open door in his hand. " You shame 
 less old eavesdropper ! " 
 
 " If you call stopping the car, hitting the 
 horn, getting out, opening the door and an 
 nouncing three times that we have arrived, 
 eavesdropping," answered Mr. Smalley, 
 "then I plead guilty! Are you feeling a 
 little better?" 
 
 His grin clove the darkness like a search 
 light. 
 
 "Better!" echoed the rapturous artist "I 
 
 146
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 never felt so well in all of my life my hith 
 erto worthless life. Go in and stir up the 
 Cuttings, Sam, and tell them that I crave 
 their hospitality for my fiancee, the Countess 
 Diane Roubanoff, and myself." 
 
 
 
 "Nothing," cried Mrs. "Jim," when she 
 and her husband had been put entirely en 
 rapport with the situation, " could have been 
 more excellently timed!" 
 
 The pretty young matron, her husband, 
 and Mr. Deane were holding a council of 
 war. On the arrival of the refugees the 
 Countess had been petted and promptly put 
 to bed; the unhappy Mr. Smalley had been 
 dispatched to return the borrowed car with 
 such explanations as might occur to his in 
 genious mind, while Mr. Deane, his head 
 having been dressed by a surgeon, had been 
 also put to bed, but had stubbornly declined 
 to sleep until the immediate future had been 
 disposed of. 
 
 "Why well timed?" he asked. "I say, 
 Edith did you ever see such eyes and hair? " 
 
 "Because Jim and I are going over to 
 England for Henley week, and after that 
 147
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 we are going to tour Scotland,, We are 
 taking the car with us." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " The Countess shall come, too, of course. 
 We were wondering who to ask. Before we 
 return she will have come of age and can 
 marry you or any one else she pleases." 
 
 " She would never be safe here in France," 
 said Mr. Cutting, who had won his own 
 bride while hounded by the French police. 
 
 " What a pity that you should have prom 
 ised Sam Smalley to go touring with him, 
 Archie," said Mrs Cutting demurely, "as 
 otherwise we might have asked you, too. 
 However, I know of an awfully attractive 
 guardsman " 
 
 "Oh, rot!" growled Mr. Deane. "Of 
 course I am going with you, Edith. My 
 tour with Sam is all off. He s gone and 
 smashed up his car I " 
 
 
 
 Six weeks later found a small runabout 
 car skipping merrily over the Devon hills. 
 On the luggage-carrier behind there was 
 lashed a gleamingly-new sole-leather trunk. 
 Driving the car was a handsome young man 
 
 148
 
 
 
 The Countess Diane 
 
 with a radiant face and a clearly-defined 
 and recent scar across his forehead, while on 
 the seat beside him was a very pretty girl 
 with sapphire eyes, enough red hair for two, 
 and a great many very white teeth. She had 
 been a wife for exactly two hours and eight 
 een minutes, according to the auto-watch 
 which hung just in front of her. 
 
 "Are we almost there husband?" she 
 asked with a breathless little laugh. 
 
 Yes, Diane. It is the dearest little place. 
 Years ago I used to come here to paint. 
 Are you tired, dear?" 
 
 " Tired? No, but the road is so steep, and 
 one really should not try to drive even a 
 little car like this with only one hand even 
 for a minute and and no, dearest, you 
 must look where you are going, or else 
 stop! Just think how awful it would be if 
 anything should happen to us now! " 
 
 THE END 
 
 149
 
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