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Updated: June 2, 2025
They had turned again, and were once more in sight of the little group. Bernadine had thrown a loose overcoat over his tweed travelling clothes, and with a cigarette between his fingers was engaged in deferential conversation with the woman by his side.
He was powerless to move or speak. "Immediately," Bernadine continued, "I have presented myself at your house, verified your safe conduct, and helped myself to certain papers which I am exceedingly anxious to obtain," he went on, "I shall telephone here to the man whom I leave in charge and you will be set at liberty in due course.
De Grost looked across the palm court to where the two people who formed the subject of their discussion were sitting in a corner, both smoking, both sipping some red-coloured liqueur. "My dear Bernadine," he said, "I am much too afraid of you to listen any more.
My friend here has parted with the money on the security of two battleships and a cruiser, now building in Shepherd and Hargreaves' yard at Belfast. The two battleships and cruiser in question belong to me. I have paid two hundred thousand pounds on account of them, and hold the shipbuilders' receipt." "You are mad!" Bernadine cried, contemptuously. Peter shook his head, and continued.
But Bernadine could not see the joke, and her rage was not to be appeased even by the oyster-shell, which Beth said she might have the whole of. The battle came off after dinner that evening. But it was a day of disaster. Harriet was out of temper; and Mrs. Caldwell appeared mysteriously, just as Beth knocked Bernadine down and sat on her stomach.
De Grost drew his case from his pocket and wrote few lines on the back of one of his cards. "This will insure you entrance there," he said, "and access to my study. If you see my wife, please reassure her as to my absence." "I shall certainly do so," Bernadine agreed, with a faint smile.
"You mean " Peter began. "I mean that Bernadine must die," Sogrange declared. There was a brief silence. Outside, the early morning street noises were increasing in volume as the great army of workers, streaming towards the heart of the city from a hundred suburbs, passed on to their tasks.
Read it out to me." Peter took it into his hand and turned it over. A quick exclamation escaped him. "Great heavens! 'The Count von Hern' Bernadine!" "Just so," Sogrange assented. "Nice, clear writing, isn't it?" Peter sat bolt upright in his chair. "Do you mean to say that Bernadine is on board?" Sogrange shook his head.
"Madame is Parisian, without a doubt." She shook her head, smiling. "I do not think that I remember meeting you, monsieur," she replied doubtfully; "but perhaps " She looked up, and her eyes drooped before his. He was certainly a very personable-looking man, and she had spoken to no one for so many months. "Believe me, madame, I could not possibly be mistaken," Bernadine assured her smoothly.
I believe that the hearts of your country people are turned towards us in the same manner. I could wish that your country's political sympathies were as easily aroused." Bernadine intervened promptly. "Major Kosuth has been here only one day," he remarked lightly. "I tell him that he is a little too impatient. See, we are approaching the wood. It is as well here to refrain from conversation."
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