recalled a sentence of Mademoiselle Broumoff's: "A man whose eyes we have always to blind;" and I repeated it over and over again, till at last I grew to read it by the light of my own wild, vague thoughts and hopes—that there was no betrothal, but that the pretended agreement to it was a part of the subtler plot which my Princess was weaving. The thought of such a betrothal was maddening to me, and I worked myself up until I thought I would rather pick a quarrel with him and run him through the heart than see her condemned to be the wife of such a brute.
I was cooler, however, when I returned to my hotel, and my wits were clear and wary enough as I set out for General Kolfort's house. I was well received, but he made haste to show me that he knew already of the fact of my captain's commission.
"I am glad to see you, Count Benderoff—or shall I say Captain?"
"Choose your own form of salutation, General. It was of that matter I came to see you," I returned.
"Is that all?"
"All?" I asked, as if in astonishment.
"Do you accept the commission in the service of the Prince—or rather of the lady who has offered it you—or in mine?"
"In neither; but as an honour offered to a rich British subject who has taken up permanent residence in Sofia." His shrewd old eyes lighted at this reply, which he had certainly not expected.
"So that is your line, eh?" he said drily. "Considering that they know nothing of the Hon. Mr. Winthrop's existence, they have acted a little by accident in honouring a British subject. Don't you think so?"
