than ever. There was nothing now for
her but to take the key, or else to tell her lover that she would not
obey him. There could be no further hope in diplomacy. She had just
resolved that she could not take the key--that in spite of her promise
she could not bring herself to treat her father after such fashion as
that--when the old man turned suddenly round upon her again, and went
back to the subject.

"I have got a letter somewhere from Karil Zamenoy," said he, "telling
me that the deed is in his own chest."

"Have you, father?" said she, anxiously, but struggling to repress her
anxiety.

"I had it, I know. It was written ever so long ago--before I had
settled with the Trendellsohns; but I have seen it often since. Take
the key and unlock the desk, and bring me the bundle of papers that
are tied with an old tape; or--stop--bring me all the papers." With
trembling hand Nina took the key. She was now desired by her father to
do exactly that which her lover wished her to have done; or, better
still, her father was about to do the thing himself. She would at any
rate have positive proof that the paper was not in her father's desk.
He had desired her to bring all the papers, so that there would be no
doubt left. She took the key very gently, as softly as was possible to
her, and went slowly into the other room. When there she unlocked the
desk and took out the bundle of letters tied with an old tape which lay
at the top ready to her hand. Then she collected together the other
papers, which were not many, and without looking at them carried them
to her father. She studiously avoided any scrutiny of what there might
be, even by so much as a glance of her eye. "This seems to be all there
is, father, except one or two old account-books."

He took the bundle, and with feeble hands untied the tape and moved
the documents, one by one. Nina felt that she was fully warranted in
looking at them now, as her father was in fact showing them to her.
In this way she would be able to give evidence in his favour without
having had recourse to any ignoble practice. The old man moved every
paper in the bundle, and she could see that they were all letters. She
had understood that the deed for which Trendellsohn had desired her to
search was written on a larger paper than any she now saw, and that she
might thus know it at once. There was, certainly, no such deed among
the papers which her father slowly turned over, and which he slowly