Ivan's mean lodging that
night.

Nello was not without a spirit of adventure. He was rather looking
forward to what would happen at midnight. He was to change places with
Stepan, heavily handicapped as to hearing and speech, and listen to
the conversation of the conspirators.

It was a gala night at the Opera. The Emperor and his consort were to
be there. On such ceremonious occasions, Corsini was wont to conduct
the orchestra himself, as a mark of respect to the autocrat. The Opera
given on this particular night was a famous masterpiece in those days,
Rossini's "Semiramide."

It was a great house. The flower of Russia's nobility was gathered in
the boxes and stalls of the vast building, the men attired in
immaculate costume, the women radiant in their flashing jewels. In a
far box, Nello saw the charming young Princess with an elderly friend,
acting as her chaperon in place of her mother. Evidently she had not
taken his advice. He cast a lightning glance around as he bowed to the
plaudits of the audience. He was looking for Zouroff, but he could not
see him. If the Prince was in the crowded house, he had missed him.
Certainly he was not in the box where his sister sat.

He conducted the overture. In a few moments the curtain would rise.
Before he had got to the end of the last few bars, there was heard a
piercing scream, the cry of a woman. It penetrated to every corner of
the building and created an uneasy feeling in the audience.

Nello recognised the situation at once. He beat with his baton on the
desk and started the overture again. Something had happened. He would
know in a few minutes.

At last the curtain rose. The stage-manager, looking very agitated,
appeared. In a few brief sentences he explained that Madame Quero had
been attacked with sudden indisposition; that he must crave the
indulgence of the audience for her understudy, who would take her
place.

Corsini dared not leave his desk. On such a night as this he could not
affront his Emperor and this brilliant assemblage by deputing his task
to a subordinate. He went through the Opera with the conscientious
spirit of the artist. But all the time his thoughts were dwelling on
La Belle Quero, the woman who had braved Zouroff's vengeance in order
to save him.

It was evidently a serious indisposition. If it had been only a slight
attack, the handsome singer would have pulled herself together and
appeared some time in the course of the evening. With