ed nurse in the corner, the still tearful Katerina. What did
he reck of these? Had not his beautiful Princess avowed her love with
that warm kiss on his lips? What did anything else in the world
matter?

Golitzine met him with his humorous smile. "Well, I have no doubt you
have made good use of your time with the Princess. Now or never was
your opportunity. To-morrow morning, in the Emperor's cabinet, at the
Winter Palace!"

Corsini left the Count's house. He certainly would not forget that
appointment to-morrow morning at the Winter Palace.

But although he had many things to remember, his most vital
recollection was the answering kiss of Nada.

CHAPTER XXIV

Zouroff, at this particular moment, was not in a very enviable frame
of mind. Optimist as he was, and a believer in his own star, he could
not disguise from himself the fact that his two efforts at kidnapping
had not been attended with any remarkable success.

Corsini, through treachery on the part of his associates, had been
rescued at Pavlovsk. And last night, the deaf and inarticulate Stepan,
suffering, no doubt, from momentary aberration, had driven off in the
darkness with the young Princess and her maid--whither, he knew not.

He sat up till the small hours of the morning, awaiting the return of
that carriage. Stepan would come back to his senses and drive back for
further instructions. But the carriage did not return. At length
Zouroff dismissed his two confederates.

"Let Stepan return when he will, or never return, it does not matter,"
he said impatiently. What did small things like this matter? A
carriage stranded, two helpless and drugged women inside, recognised
later on. By the time this could be brought home to him, he would be
in such a position that he could hush-up all inquiries.

He strolled round to the Villa Quero. The servant who opened the door
knew him well, of course.

"I am grieved to tell you, Excellency, that our dear mistress died in
the early hours of the morning."

"I am very grieved to hear it," said the hypocritical Zouroff. "I
heard that she was taken ill at the Opera yesterday evening. It was
sudden, was it not?"

"Very sudden, your Excellency. The doctor seems to think that she was
poisoned."

"Poisoned! Good Heavens!" cried Zouroff. "But who could want to poison
such a charming woman, so generally beloved?"

The servant shrugged his shoulders. "Ah, who can tell? Perhaps some
envious rival. The post-mor