te had not said 'very urgent,' I should not
have taken myself away from more important matters."

La Belle Quero flicked the ash of her cigarette on the carpet. "Once,
my friend, you would have come on the slightest request from me. I
should not have been compelled to mark my note urgent, eh?"

The Prince answered a little awkwardly. "Don't let us be too
sentimental, dear child. We have been good friends, we have got to a
closer degree of comradeship. Is it not an ideal relationship? Well,
what have you to tell me? You have not summoned me here for nothing, I
am sure?"

"Not even for the pleasure of your society, my most charming and
exquisite Boris?" inquired the _prima donna_, in a tone of raillery.

The Prince frowned. At the moment, the light caprices of women did not
appeal to him.

"You are talking nonsense, my dear Inez. Let us come to the point."

The Spanish woman came to the point at once, with an angry glitter in
her eyes. What a pity that Zouroff was not a little more gentle in his
dealings with women!

"Our little secret evening parties have been discovered, that is all.
It may give you and me food for reflection."

The Prince drew a deep breath. "Discovered! It is impossible. Who
dares to suspect us?"

"It does not matter who suspects us. It is enough that we are
suspected. I suppose the Secret Police have been at work."

Zouroff thought a few moments, and then a sudden light came to him. He
crossed over and grasped the beautiful young woman by the arm.

"Tell me the truth and don't palter with me," he thundered in his
harsh, raucous tones. "Where have you this information? But I can
answer the question myself. It is from that white-livered Italian,
Corsini. He is a spy in the pay of Golitzine."

Madame Quero endeavoured to utter a faltering negative, but Zouroff,
always fond of brutal methods, tightened his grasp on the delicate
flesh.

Under the hypnotic influence of this brutal and commanding man, she
stammered forth the truth.

"You have guessed right. It was Corsini who told me, in a very brief
interview. He had heard the rumour from a friend."

Zouroff smiled. It was a very sinister smile at the best. The lips
curled up, the strong, white, even teeth showed themselves,
suggesting the fangs of a wolf.

"So this degenerate Italian is daring to thrust himself across our
path, is he? Well, then! _the Italian mountebank must disappear_."

Madame Quero rose to her full height and brav