"But if they should come--here--the Cossacks--!" she whispered fearfully.
He laughed easily. "Ah, Countess, I am not a half-bad jailer, after all?"
"The place is impregnable--sheer cliffs upon all sides--the causeway two hundred meters long. I could pick them off one by one from the top of the keep. With the drawbridge up, we are as safe as though we were in Vienna."
"They will not think us worth their while. In the armory there are six repeating hunting rifles and four shotguns, ammunition plentiful----" He broke off and, rising, came over and stood beside her. "But we will not think of unpleasant possibilities. It has been so long since I have seen you--too long."
She let him take her hand and press it to his lips, but tonight that condescension did not seem to be enough. He fell to one knee beside her and would have put his arm about her waist if she had not risen and struggled away from him.
"You forget, Herr Hauptmann, the dependence of my position here--alone with you. Whatever our personal relations, a delicacy for my feelings must warn you----"
"Marishka!" he broke in. "What does a man who loves as I do, care for the conventions of the sham world you and I have left so far behind. I adore you. And you flout me."
"For shame! Would you care for me if I were a woman without delicacy or dignity? I beg of you----"
But he had held her by the hand and would not release her.
"I adore you--and you flout me--that is all that I know. Your indifference maddens me. Perhaps I am not as other men, and must not be judged by other standards than my own which are sufficient for myself as they should be sufficient for you. You know that I--I worship you--that by staying here I have forgotten my duty to my country at a time when I am most needed. Does that mean nothing to you? Can you be callous to a love like mine which lives only in your happiness and hangs upon your pleasure? I worship you, Marishka. Just one kiss, to tell me that you care for me a little. I will be content----"
She struggled in his grasp, her fear of him lending her more strength. Her lips--? Hugh's! Never--never--as God witnessed.
She struggled free and struck him with her clenched fist furiously, full in the face, and then ran to the window, as he released her, breathing hard, trembling, but full of defiance. The suddenness of the affair and its culmination had driven them both dumb, Marishka with terror, Goritz with chagrin at his mistake and anger at her temerity. He touched his face with the fingers of one hand and stared at her with eyes that burned with black fire in the pallor of his face.