The Blood-Red Cross | Page 5

more." Then she added, turning to Rowland, "Mr. Dixon
Druce is a very old friend of mine."
Rowland gave e me a bewildered glance. Madame turned and began to
talk to her hostess. Antonia was standing near one of the open
drawing-rooms. She had on a soft dress of pale green silk. I had seldom

seen a more graceful little creature. But the expression of her face
disturbed me. It wore now the fascinated look of a bird when a snake
attracts it. Could Madame Sara be the snake? Was Antonia afraid of
this woman?
The next day Lady Kennedy came to me with a confidence.
"I am glad your police friend is coming," she said. "It will be safer."
"Vandeleur arrives at twelve o'clock," was my answer.
"Well, I am pleased. I like that woman less and less. I was amazed
when she dared to call you her friend."
"Oh, we have met before on business," I answered, guardedly.
"You won't tell me anything further, Mr. Druce?"
"You must excuse me, Lady Kennedy."
"Her assurance is unbounded," continued the good lady. "She has
brought a maid or nurse with her--a most extraordinary-looking woman.
That, perhaps, is allowable; but she has also brought her black servant,
an Arabian, who goes by the name of Achmed. I must say he is a
picturesque creature with his quaint Oriental dress. He was all in
flaming yellow this morning, and the embroidery on his jacket was
worth a small fortune. But it is the daring of the woman that annoys me.
She goes on as though she were somebody."
"She is a very emphatic somebody," I could not help replying. "London
Society is at her feet."
"I only hope that Antonia will take her remedies and let her go. The
woman has no welcome from me," said the indignant mistress of
Rowland's Folly.
I did not see anything of Antonia that morning, and at the appointed
time I went down to the station to meet Vandeleur. He arrived in high
spirits, did not ask a question with regard to Antonia, received the

information that Madame Sara was in the house with stolid silence, and
seemed intent on the pleasures of the moment.
"Rowland's Folly!" he said, looking round him as we approached one
of the finest houses in the whole of Yorkshire. "A folly truly, and yet a
pleasant one, Druce, eh? I fancy," he added, with a slight smile, "that I
am going to have a good time here."
"I hope you will disentangle a most tangled skein," was my reply.
He shrugged his shoulders. Suddenly his manner altered.
"Who is that woman?" he said, with a strain of anxiety quite apparent
in his voice.
"Who?" I asked.
"That woman on the terrace in nurse's dress."
"I don't know. She has been brought here by Madame Sara--a sort of
maid and nurse as well. I suppose poor little Antonia will be put under
her charge."
"Don't let her see me, Druce, that's all. Ah, here is our host."
Vandeleur quickened his movements, and the next instant was shaking
hands with Rowland.
The rest of the day passed without adventure. I did not see Antonia.
She did not even appear at dinner. Rowland, however, assured me that
she was taking necessary rest and would be all right on the morrow. He
seemed inclined to be gracious to Madame Sara, and was annoyed at
his sister's manner to their guest.
Soon after dinner, as I was standing in one of the smoking-rooms, I felt
a light hand on my arm, and, turning, encountered the splendid pose
and audacious, bright, defiant glance of Madame herself.
"Mr. Druce," she said, "just one moment. It is quite right that you and I

should be plain with each other. I know the reason why you are here.
You have come for the express purpose of spying upon me and spoiling
what you consider my game. But understand, Mr. Druce, that there is
danger to yourself when you interfere with the schemes of one like me.
Forewarned is forearmed."
Someone came into the room and Madame left it.
The ball was but a week off, and preparations for the great event were
taking place. Attached to the house at the left was a great room built for
this purpose.
Rowland and I were walking down this room on a special morning; he
was commenting on its architectural merits and telling me what band
he intended to have in the musicians' gallery, when Antonia glided into
the room.
"How pale you are, little Tonia!" he said.
This was his favourite name for her. He put his hand under her chin,
raised her sweet, blushing face, and looked into her eyes.
"Ah, you want my answer. What a persistent little puss it is! You