"Last night, about ten o'clock, M'sieu le Comte. I was out in the moonlight fishing for eels. She came down to the shore--took a canoe yonder by the willows. The young man had a double-bladed paddle. They were singing."
"Very well." He turned and looked down the dusky river out of light-coloured, murderous eyes. Then, always awkward in his gait, he retraced his steps to the house. There a servant accosted him on the terrace:
"The telephone, if Monsieur le Comte pleases----"
"Who is calling?" he demanded with a flare of fury.
"Paris, if it pleases Monsieur le Comte."
The Count d'Eblis went to his own quarters, seated himself, and picked up the receiver:
"What has h-happened?" he stammered in sudden terror.
Over the wire came the distant reply, perfectly clear and distinct:
"Ferez Bey was arrested in his own house at dinner last evening, and was immediately conducted to the frontier, escorted by Government detectives.... Is Nihla with you?"
The Count's teeth were chattering now. He managed to say:
"No, I don't know where she is. She was dancing. Then, all at once, she was gone. Of what was Colonel Ferez suspected?"
"I don't know. But perhaps we might guess."
"By Souchez.... Good-bye, if I don't see you. I join Ferez. And look out for Nihla. She'll trick you yet!"
"Wait, for God's sake, Max!"--listened; called again in vain. "The one-eyed rabbit!" he panted, breathing hard and irregularly. His large hand shook as he replaced the instrument. He sat there as though paralysed, for a moment or two. Mechanically he removed his tinsel cap and thrust it into the pocket of his evening coat. Suddenly the dull hue of anger dyed neck, ears and temple:
"By God!" he gasped. "What is that she-devil trying to do to me? What has she _done_!"
After another moment of staring fixedly at nothing, he opened the table drawer, picked up a pistol and poked it into his breast pocket.
Then he rose, heavily, and stood looking out of the window at the paling east, his pendulous under lip aquiver.
The first sunbeams had already gilded her bedroom windows, barring the drawn curtains with light, when the man arrived. He was still wearing his disordered evening dress under a light overcoat; his soiled shirt front was still crossed by the red ribbon of watered silk; third class orders striped his breast, where also the brand new Turkish sunburst glimmered.