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"And for a very good reason: the insurgents chopped off his head on his own threshold." Even this intelligence could not destroy Blanka's appetite. She ate her sardines with unusual relish, and Vajdar could see that she gave little credence to his words. "Stormy times are ahead of us," he went on, "and I assure you this is the only safe retreat for you, the holy city, the home of peace."
"The seat is now mine by railway usage, and I cannot deny myself the pleasure of sitting opposite you, my dear princess." Blanka controlled her indignation as best she could, but her companion felt called upon to come to her aid with an energetic remonstrance. "Mr. Vajdar," said she, severely, "you should know what is expected of a gentleman in his conduct toward a lady.
At last, to crown all, he instituted divorce proceedings against her. This was the price he paid to regain the fair Cyrene's favour, but I am convinced that Benjamin Vajdar is at the bottom of it all. The prince bases his suit for a separation on his wife's alleged epileptic attacks and consequent unfitness for the wedded state. Of course that is all nonsense.
Six weeks later Benjamin Vajdar made his reappearance in Vienna, the net result of his expedition to Transylvania being, first, a heavy draft on the bank-account of his chief, and, second, a limping gait for himself, which proved a sad affliction to him on the dancing-floor.
With what sort of ammunition had the gun been loaded, that it should inflict so deadly a wound, that it should cause such a sudden and complete transformation of that complacently smiling face? "Who told you that?" demanded Vajdar so furiously that Blanka recoiled involuntarily. "Only one person could have been your informant, and I know who that person is.
Manasseh turned strangely sober. "It would be only for your sake that I should object," he replied. "The bearer of that name is a very unfortunate girl." So they agreed to leave the train at Bologna and take the mountain pass. It only remained to hoodwink Benjamin Vajdar, and Manasseh Adorjan promised to effect this.
Bring me the morocco pocketbook out of my writing-desk, please." Vajdar limped across the room and brought the pocketbook. Rozina opened it and drew forth an official-looking document. "Here is a contract for so and so many bushels of grain to be furnished to the army.
Benjamin Vajdar, black with guilt as he knew himself to be, chose the shrewder course of remaining in Vienna and calmly going about his business, with all the outward confidence of spotless innocence. Suspicion is much like a watch-dog; it leaps upon the man who quails.
But, by the way, is not our Toroczko friend among those who are likely enough to fall some day before the French and Italians?" "He is still in Lombardy," said Vajdar, with a significant nod of the head. "We have our eyes on him." "I am curious to know what this apostle of peace will do when he is ordered into battle.
As if distrusting his own constancy and the binding force of his promise to his sister, Manasseh had, with a few strokes of his pen, rendered harmless what could otherwise have been used as incriminating evidence against the forger. On entering the room, Manasseh detected a peculiar odour in the air. Benjamin Vajdar sat at the writing-desk, a morocco pocketbook open before him.
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