, as he spoke, a slight
shudder went through the assembly. La Belle Quero was so handsome, so
popular; it seemed a thousand pities that she should be done to death,
even in the interests of the Cause.

Zouroff spoke eagerly. At the moment he felt no remorse for having
compassed the death of his former sweetheart with that poisoned
chocolate. Had she not insulted him by daring to look with favourable
eyes on another man?

"Gentlemen, it has ever been one of our fixed rules that anybody who
betrayed us, man or woman, it matters not which, should pay the
penalty of death. If I betrayed you, I should not complain if that law
were put into execution against myself. La Belle Quero betrayed us;
she has paid the penalty."

Zouroff was logical. The sense of the assembly was with him. The
bearded man made a last effort to wrest from him his supremacy, not on
the score of disloyalty, but for maladroitness in handling their
common affairs.

"I very much regret that Madame Quero should have allowed her heart to
govern her head. She was a very charming woman," he said smoothly. "Do
you happen, by any chance, Prince, to have enemies in your own
household?"

"Why do you ask me that question?" queried Zouroff boldly.

"One of my spies told me that Beilski has paid a recent visit to your
sister, the Princess Nada. Beilski is not in the habit of paying
afternoon calls. Does the young Princess know anything?"

Zouroff knew nothing of the visit of the General; it was news to him;
but he grasped the situation promptly.

"I have already provided against that, Count. Her mother is in bed; a
feverish cold, as we thought at first, has developed into diphtheria.
I believe my sister is quite innocent of any serious designs against
us, but it is always as well to be on the safe side."

The other men listened with the closest attention. After all, Zouroff
was the subtlest of them all. The bearded man maintained a sullen
silence; he had given up all hope of rescuing the leadership of the
party from the resourceful Prince.

"My sister I shall send to the old Castle of Tchernoff and keep her
there as long as it suits my purpose. It is a veritable tomb, far away
in the Caucasus. I have arranged that she starts to-night. Our good
Stepan will later have his instructions. As he is practically deaf and
almost incapable of speech, he can tell no tales. Besides, he is
devoted to me."

Corsini, close up against the curtains, had listened to all