uests."

Madame Golitzine went down to her husband's room and found him
closeted with Corsini, who had given him a full account of the
proceedings at the Villa Quero, of his driving back with Zouroff to
the Palace, of his stratagem in jumping on the box and driving off, to
the surprise of the Prince and his two burly ruffians.

The Count had chuckled at the end of the narrative. Things were
shaping well for him, to-morrow he would hear his Emperor's hearty cry
of--"Well done, Golitzine. I knew you would beat them in the end."

"Corsini, my dear fellow, you are wasted on music. Give it up, and I
will get you a big post in the Secret Police."

But the Italian shook his head. "Many thanks, Excellency, but I do not
really love this excitement. Music was my first love, it will be my
last."

The Countess came in. She knew Corsini well, but did not recognise him
in the rough clothes of Stepan, with his face and hands stained.

"Nada is quite conscious and her faculties are coming back rapidly,"
she told her husband; "but she is terribly anxious to know all that
has happened since she was drugged. She wishes to see you. Of course,
I can tell her nothing, as I have not had time to hear anything from
you."

"She is not too excited?" questioned the Count.

"Only from anxiety to know. She will grow very excited if she is kept
much longer in suspense."

The Count beckoned to Corsini. "Let us go to her. You can explain
better than I."

But Corsini shrank back and a hot blush showed through the dark stain
that had been rubbed on his face in the mean lodging of Ivan the
outlaw.

"I cannot present myself in these miserable clothes, disguised as I
am, to the Princess," he stammered.

The Count smiled his quiet rather cynical smile. "I will wager she
will penetrate with the first glance through the disguise and the
shabby clothes."

He turned to his wife. "My dear, permit me to re-introduce to you
Signor Corsini, the Director of the Italian Opera. He doesn't cut
quite such a brilliant figure as usual, but his excuse is that he has
been doing some very good work for the Emperor."

The Countess, a woman of charming manners, advanced to him with
outstretched hands. "A thousand pardons. Please forgive my obtuseness,
but my thoughts were so occupied with our poor dear Nada." So adroitly
did she redeem a somewhat awkward situation.

The three went up to the chamber whither the young Princess had been
conveyed. The Count wen