CHAPTER XII
THE SPY
As soon as the door closed behind the Countess
Bokara, I threw myself into a chair in a condition of
unspeakable dismay, rage, and chagrin at this most
unexpected turn.
It spelt ruin to everything and everybody concerned in our scheme. I had seen and heard quite enough of General Kolfort to know full well that the merest hint of such a plot as ours would drive him instantly to desperate extremes. He would put in force every engine of the powerful machinery at his instant disposal to crush and punish us. And that he could crush us as easily as he would pinch a fly between his fingers there was not a doubt. His power was practically absolute, and he would use it mercilessly, like the man of iron that he was.
Nor was that the worst. There was a traitor somewhere in our midst; a recreant who had carried the secret in hot haste to this vengeful woman. I could not hazard even a guess as to whose was the treachery, but that it threatened the future of the scheme, should even she herself be silenced, was as patent as the fingers on one's hand.
Yet what to do I could not see, plague and rack my wits as I would, as I sat alternating between moods of consternation, rage, and searching reflection.
In the afternoon I had a horse saddled and rode out
