"Words, dear lady," he said softly. "Words!"
"Try me!" she challenged.
He made no immediate reply, and suddenly his eyes again narrowed as they had done before, and their piercing glance rested upon Rosemary until she felt that through those heavy lids something inimical and poisonous had touched her. She felt a little shiver running down her spine, an unaccountable sense of apprehension caused her to glance rapidly toward the door, where she hoped to perceive Jasper's comforting presence. She was not afraid, of course, nor did she regret her enthusiasm, or her advocacy of the children's cause; but she had the sudden, vague feeling that she had come to the brink of an abyss and that she was staring down into unknown depths, into which unseen forces were urging her to leap.
Slowly Naniescu's eyes reopened and the mellow expression crept back into them; he gave a sigh of satisfaction, and settled himself down once more comfortably on the cushions of the chair.
"I am happy indeed, dear lady," he began, "that you yourself should have made an offer, which I hardly dared place before you."
"An offer? What do you mean?"
"Surely that was your intention, was it not, to do something in return for the heavy sacrifice you are asking of me?"
"Sacrifice?" Rosemary queried, frowning. "What sacrifice?"
"Sacrifice of my convictions. Duty calls me to very insistently in the matter of those young traitors whom you, dear lady, are pleased to refer to as children. I know that I should be doing wrong in giving them the chance of doing more mischief. I know it," he reiterated emphatically, "with as much certainty as I do the fact that they will not give up trying to do mischief. But-"
He paused and fell to studying with obvious satisfaction Rosemary's beautiful eager eyes fixed intently upon him.
"But what, Monsieur le General?" she asked.
"But I am prepared to make the sacrifice of my convictions at your bidding, if you, on the other hand, will do the same at mine."
Rosemary's frown deepened. "I don't think I quite understand," she said.
"No," he retorted; "but you will-soon. Let me explain. You, dear lady, have come to Transylvania wrapped in prejudice as in sheet-armour against my unfortunate country. Oh, yes, you have," he went on blandly, checking with an elegant gesture the cry of protest that had risen to Rosemary's lips. "I am even prepared to admit that nothing that you have seen in these first few days has tended to pierce that armour of prejudice. Well, well!" and the general sighed again in that affected way of his. "You have one of your wonderful sayings in England that exactly meets this case: 'East is East,' you say, 'and West is West.' This is the East really, and you Occidentals will never think as we do. But I am wandering from my point, and you, dear lady, are getting impatient. Having admitted everything that you would wish me to admit, I now will come forward with my little proposition-what?"
"If you please," Rosemary replied coldly.
"The children, as you are pleased to call them," Naniescu went on with slow deliberation, shedding his affected manner as a useless garment no longer required to conceal his thoughts, "the children have done us an infinity of mischief, in the eyes of the British and American public, by the publication of articles defamatory to our Government; for this they have deserved punishment. Now, I propose to remit that punishment if you will undo the mischief that they have done."
"I?" Rosemary exclaimed, puzzled. "How?"
"By publishing newspaper articles that will refute those calumnies once and for all," the general said blandly. Then, as Rosemary recoiled at the suggestion as if she had been struck in the face, he went on cynically: "You are such a brilliant journalist, dear lady, endowed with a vivid imagination. It will be easy for you to do this for the sake of those two young traitors in whom you take such a kindly interest. You may, in your articles, begin by stating the truth, if you like, and say that my Government invited you to come over to Transylvania in order to investigate the alleged acts of tyranny that are supposed to be perpetrated against the minority nationals. Then you will proceed to state that after impartial and exhaustive inquiry you have come to the conclusion that practically all the charges brought against us are unfounded, that with the exception of a few inevitable hardships consequent of foreign occupation, the minority nationals in Transylvania are enjoying the utmost freedom and security under the just laws of an enlightened country. You will-"
But here the flow of the worthy general's eloquence received a sudden check in the shape of a rippling outburst of laughter from Rosemary. He frowned; not understanding her mood, his knowledge of women being superficial, his thoughts flew to hysteria. He had known a woman once-
As a matter of fact there was something hysterical about Rosemary's laughter. She checked it as soon as she regained control over herself. It was as well that she could laugh, that her sense of humour, never absent in an Englishwoman of intellect, had at once shown her the folly of giving way to the indignation which had been her first impulse. Frankly she could not see herself as an outraged tragedy queen thundering forth an emphatic "Never!" to the Roumanian's impudent proposals; and when Naniescu marvelled at the strange moods of women and vainly tried to guess what there was in the present situation to make this pretty woman laugh, he little knew that Rosemary was laughing at an imaginary picture of herself, with head thrown back and flaming eyes, and gestures that rivalled those of the general himself in their elegant and expressive sweep.
"You must forgive me, Monsieur le General," she said presently, "but your proposition is so funny!"
"Funny, dear lady!" he protested. "Frankly I do not see-"
"No," she broke in, "you would not."
"Will you be so gracious as to explain?"
"No," Rosemary went on lightly, "I don't think I will. You would not understand-even then."
"Then," he said coolly, "there is nothing left for me to do but to take my leave, and to deplore that you should have wasted so much of your valuable time in conversation with a clod."
He rose, and bowing low, he put out his hand in order to take hers, but Rosemary did not move.
"You cannot go, Monsieur le General," she said firmly, "without giving me a definite answer."
"I have given you a definite answer, dear lady. It is my misfortune that you choose to treat it as ludicrous."
"But surely you were not serious when you suggested—"
"When I suggested that the mischief wrought by two traitors should be remedied by one who takes an interest in them? What could be more serious?"
"You seriously think" she insisted, "that I would lend myself to such traffic? that I would put my name to statements which I could not verify, or to others that I should actually believe to be false? Ah ça, Monsieur le General, where did you get your conception of English women of letters, or of English journalists?"
Naniescu put his finger-tips to his breast, then spread out his hands with a broad gesture of protest.
"I was wrong," he said suavely, "utterly wrong. I admit it. Forgive me, and permit me to take my leave—"
"Monsieur le General—"
"At your service, dear lady."
"Young Imrey," she pleaded, "and Anna Heves!"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"I am truly sorry for them," he said unctuously; "but surely you do not think seriously that I would lend myself to any traffic where the safety of my country is concerned. Ah ça, dear lady," he went on, not only mocking the very words she had used, but even the inflexion of her voice. "Where did you get your conception of a Roumanian officer or of a Roumanian gentleman?"
"It is you who proposed an infamous traffic," she retorted, "not I."