her
own immediate troubles rose the one anxious thought--was Corsini safe?
had he escaped the vengeance of her ruthless brother?

She could not make use of the already too terrified Katerina any more.
She sent around a brief note to Corsini at his hotel, in which she
asked him to procure for her a certain piece of music of which he had
spoken to her in a brief conversation a little time ago.

The messenger came back with the information that Signor Corsini was
engaged in his duties at the Opera, and that the note would be given
him on his return.

This relieved her very much. Corsini, at any rate, was safe. Her
strategies had succeeded. She braced her nerves for the forthcoming
interview with the General. She knew it would be a strenuous one. How,
in the name of all that was marvellous, had he discovered that she was
the sender of that letter?

Beilski had chosen a most fortunate day from her point of view. Her
mother was in bed with a feverish cold. She would have to receive the
General alone. He would go to the point at once. If she had her
mother's protecting presence, decency, respect for his old friend of
many years, would have tied his tongue to some extent. He might hint
his suspicions of Zouroff to a sister; he would conceal them from a
mother, ruffian as he knew the son to be.

But though her heart was fluttering, she received him very prettily
and graciously. Had she not known him from a child?

"An unexpected pleasure, my dear General. It is not often that you
come to the Zouroff Palace."

"Not so often as I would wish, my dear child, but my time is very
fully occupied. As you can guess, these are troublous times. How is
your dear mother?"

Nada explained that the Princess was in bed with the first symptoms of
a feverish cold.

The General took a few sips of the cup of tea that the charming young
Princess offered him. His bushy eyebrows worked from time to time. He
was a perfect gentleman at heart; he was also very chivalrous to
women. He did not at all relish the mission he was engaged on. It was
the breaking of a butterfly upon a wheel, and the butterfly was the
little girl to whom he used to bring chocolates and bon-bons a few
years ago.

"Sorry to hear it, my dear child. Keep her warm and she will soon be
all right." Of course he was not really sorry at all that the Princess
Zouroff was well out of the way; it was now all plain sailing.

After a long pause, he spoke in gruff accents. "Ther