And Nada murmured softly, "I love you, too. I cannot date it back to that night. I think it was when you came to play for us at the Emba.s.sy, in London. But it does not matter, dear Nello. We have both saved each other."

"Yes, we have saved each other," was Corsini's answer. He left the white-capped nurse in the corner, the still tearful Katerina. What did he reck of these? Had not his beautiful Princess avowed her love with that warm kiss on his lips? What did anything else in the world matter?

Golitzine met him with his humorous smile. "Well, I have no doubt you have made good use of your time with the Princess. Now or never was your opportunity. To-morrow morning, in the Emperor's cabinet, at the Winter Palace!"

Corsini left the Count's house. He certainly would not forget that appointment to-morrow morning at the Winter Palace.

But although he had many things to remember, his most vital recollection was the answering kiss of Nada.

CHAPTER XXIV

Zouroff, at this particular moment, was not in a very enviable frame of mind. Optimist as he was, and a believer in his own star, he could not disguise from himself the fact that his two efforts at kidnapping had not been attended with any remarkable success.

Corsini, through treachery on the part of his a.s.sociates, had been rescued at Pavlovsk. And last night, the deaf and inarticulate Stepan, suffering, no doubt, from momentary aberration, had driven off in the darkness with the young Princess and her maid--whither, he knew not.

He sat up till the small hours of the morning, awaiting the return of that carriage. Stepan would come back to his senses and drive back for further instructions. But the carriage did not return. At length Zouroff dismissed his two confederates.

"Let Stepan return when he will, or never return, it does not matter,"

he said impatiently. What did small things like this matter? A carriage stranded, two helpless and drugged women inside, recognised later on. By the time this could be brought home to him, he would be in such a position that he could hush-up all inquiries.

He strolled round to the Villa Quero. The servant who opened the door knew him well, of course.

"I am grieved to tell you, Excellency, that our dear mistress died in the early hours of the morning."

"I am very grieved to hear it," said the hypocritical Zouroff. "I heard that she was taken ill at the Opera yesterday evening. It was sudden, was it not?"

"Very sudden, your Excellency. The doctor seems to think that she was poisoned."

"Poisoned! Good Heavens!" cried Zouroff. "But who could want to poison such a charming woman, so generally beloved?"

The servant shrugged his shoulders. "Ah, who can tell? Perhaps some envious rival. The post-mortem may possibly tell us something."

The Prince walked away quite easy in his mind. Yes, no doubt, the post-mortem would tell them something--that la Quero had been done to death by a very subtle poison. But he had reasoned it all well out.

It would be proved that he had shared a light repast with La Belle Quero that same evening. It might be proved that he had brought her a box of chocolates, out of which two were missing.

They could a.n.a.lyse that box of chocolates. They would find no poison in them. There was only poison in one, the one that he had picked out as a fine fat fellow and which she had crunched greedily between her strong white teeth.

That same morning Stepan woke up from his deep stupor in the mean lodging of Ivan the Cuckoo.

"Where am I?" was his first question, as he opened his heavy eyelids.

Ivan bent over him, till his bearded face was close to that of the dazed man.

"You are with your old friend and comrade. Last night I took the liberty of playing a little trick upon you. You will forgive me when I tell you the object of that trick was to ensnare our old enemy, Zouroff."

Stepan's rather expressionless countenance showed considerable animation. He tried to speak, but the sounds would not issue from the paralysed organs. He had recourse to his usual signs, which read as follows:

"What has happened at the Villa Quero? I was not there at the meeting last night. You drugged me to keep me away. Who took my place?"

"A friend of mine who resembles you very closely," replied the late outlaw, who was not greatly given to imparting confidences. "I expect he got some important information, my good Stepan. He can hear perfectly, and he understands both French and Russian."

Stepan rubbed his hands gleefully before he replied. "Ah, I would be glad to hear that Zouroff was trapped; but I should be very grieved if they caught poor Madame Quero, she was always so kind and considerate.

Many a night at those meetings I was kept up very late. She would always come to me the next morning with her bright smile, and give me a handsome _pour-boire_."

Ivan, who had spies all over the city, imparted the latest news.

"Madame Quero died last night, or rather in the early hours of this morning. Zouroff was at the villa during the evening, a short time before she left for the Opera. There are rumours that she died of poison. You can put two and two together, Stepan."

Yes, knowing Zouroff as well as he did, the deaf, and almost dumb, man could guess what was suggested by Ivan. He raised his hands to Heaven in horror, and then made rapid signs. "This infamous scoundrel will stop at nothing."

Presently he grew drowsy again, and in a few moments relapsed into a second deep sleep which lasted over a couple of hours. When he woke, the outlaw, who was growing rather alarmed about the prolonged effects of the narcotic, was bending over him.

Stepan repeated the question he had asked on his first waking, "Where am I?"

Ivan explained to him again that in consequence of the infirmities which so handicapped him, he was of little use against Zouroff and his friends, that a man who closely resembled him had taken his place at the villa.

Stepan, who now seemed thoroughly awake, intimated that he remembered.

Ivan proceeded, in his strong, resolute tones, "I am not a man who takes any chances, as you well know. However well you lay your plans, your ultimate success depends, more or less, on the support of your confederates. That is why I took the liberty of giving you a little harmless sleeping draught that effectually kept you from interfering with my designs. You are none the worse for it, and very shortly you shall have some vodka to pull yourself together."

Stepan, half-foolish as he was, understood this sort of language well.

The mention of the word had an almost instantaneous effect in completing his recovery.

He rubbed his hands together and smiled his silly and vacant smile.

"And how goes it with the ruffian, Zouroff, who so wronged you, my poor friend?"

"Make your mind easy, my dear Stepan," was Ivan's answer. "In a very few hours we shall both be avenged. I had a note a short time ago from the man who took your place at the Villa Quero." Ivan was the soul of discretion and reticence. Even to so intimate a comrade as Stepan he was not going to reveal the name of Corsini. "He suggested that this very night, Zouroff and his rascally band will be taken into the toils. I, your old friend, am no longer an outlaw, my pardon is secured. Further, I shall have a handsome reward, and my old playmate, Stepan, will receive his share. For us, comfort in our old age; for that double-dyed villain, Siberia and the mines. It is good to think of, Stepan, is it not?"

The half-witted creature emitted low, gurgling sounds of satisfaction.

Then he spoke rapidly on his fingers.

"It is worth living for, this day, Ivan. Will he ever know it was through us his doom was brought about? That would be the greatest satisfaction of all."

The pardoned outlaw smiled grimly. "Trust to me for that. I have friends everywhere. I will get that information conveyed to him somehow by somebody. Yes, that will make him writhe."

After his visit to the Villa Quero, Zouroff went back to the Palace.

He was met by his valet, Peter, whose looks expressed consternation.

The news he had to impart to his master was very grave. Also he was uneasy with regard to his own skin. He had obtained a free pardon for his share in the abduction of Corsini; could he rely upon a further dispensation in the case of the young Princess?

"Excellency, I have to report disaster. One of our spies has ferreted out the following facts. Stepan drove the carriage by a roundabout route to the house of Golitzine. The Princess and her maid, my sweetheart, Katerina, are now under the protection of the Count. I fear this will very much interfere with your Excellency's plans."

Zouroff swore roundly. "Then this Stepan is another traitor."

"It would appear so," replied Peter, with a look of disgust well simulated. Fresh from his confession to Beilski, it was necessary that he should reprobate all fellow traitors. "You can never trust these half-witted chaps," he added.