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Updated: May 8, 2025
Kosmaroff sat up, and immediately began to shiver. Martin was shivering too, and handed him the vodka-bottle with a laugh. His spirits were proof even against failure and a hopeless dawn and bitter cold. "Where are we?" he asked. Kosmaroff stood up and looked round. They were travelling at a great pace in the company of countless ice-floes, some white with snow, others gray and muddy.
And he took her hand again in the masterful way that thrilled her, and waited for her to answer. "Mr. Cartoner will not go away from Warsaw if he can help it." "Ah!" said Kosmaroff. "Why tell me why?" But Netty shook her head. They were getting into a side issue assuredly, and she had not come here to stray into side issues.
Deulin did not think it necessary to refer to the object of Cartoner's ride. Neither did he mention the fact that he knew that this was not the direct way to St. Petersburg. "I hired a horse and rode out to meet you," he said, gayly he was singularly gay this morning, and there was a light in his eye "to intercept you. Kosmaroff is back in Warsaw. I saw him in the streets and he saw me.
"But I conclude you have failed, since you are here and he is there." And he pointed towards Martin. "Thanks to you." "No, I had nothing to do with it," said Cartoner. "You cannot expect me to believe that." "I do not care," replied the English diplomat, gently, "whether you believe it or not." Kosmaroff moved towards the door.
I have long known that we are going back to the methods of the sixties suspicion and assassination. It has always been the ruin of Poland that method." "But you have no feelings with regard to this man?" asked Kosmaroff, sharply, looking from father to daughter, with a keen sidelong glance, as if the suspicion that had come from Cracow had not left him untouched.
"Get a hammer one of you," said Kosmaroff, over his shoulder, and Martin bit his lip with a sudden desire to speak to say more than was discreet. He took his cue in some way from Cartoner, without knowing that wise men cease persuading the moment they have gained consent. Never comment on your own victory.
Kosmaroff did as he was told. His eyes had the unmistakable glitter of starvation and exhaustion. They were fixed on Cartoner's face, with a hundred unasked questions in them. "How did it happen?" asked Cartoner, at length. "They fired on us crossing the frontier, and hit him. Pity it was not me. He is a much greater loss than I should have been. That was the night before last.
In twenty-four hours there would be not only ice to fear, but uprooted trees and sawn timber from the mills; here and there a mill-wheel torn from its bearings, now and then a dead horse; a door, perhaps, of a cottage, or part of a roof; a few boats; a hundred trophies of the triumph of nature over man, borne to the distant sea on muddy waters. Kosmaroff found the bread and tore a piece off.
But Netty's curiosity was not satisfied, and she knew that Deulin would answer no question seriously. Why did not Kosmaroff come back? Why did Cartoner stay away? As soon as etiquette allowed, she called at the Bukaty Palace. She made an excuse in some illustrated English and American magazines which might interest the Princess Wanda. But there was no one at home.
And the voice was that of Prince Martin Bukaty. He had another coat such as he was wearing thrown across the saddle in front of him, and he leaned forward to hand it down to Kosmaroff. "You are not cold?" he asked. "No; I feel as if I should never be cold again." "That is good. Put on your coat quickly. You must not catch a chill. You must take care of yourself."
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