igel will look after you."

Naida came down the hall, cool and exquisitely gowned in a creation of
shimmering white. Nigel led her into the rarely used drawing-room and
found a chair for her between the open window and the conservatory. At
first they exchanged but few words. The sense of her near presence
affected Nigel as nothing of the sort had ever done before. She for her
part seemed quite content with a silence which had in it many of the
essentials of eloquence.

"If the history of these days is ever written by an irascible German
historian," Naida remarked at length, "he will probably declare that the
destinies of the world have been affected during this last month by an
outburst of primitivism. Do you know that I have written quite nice
things to Paul about you English people? Honest things, of course, but
still things which you helped me to discover. And Prince Shan, too. I
think that when he rode here through the clouds, he believed in his
heart that he was coming as a harbinger of woe."

"You really think, then, that the crisis is past?" Nigel asked.

She nodded.

"I am almost sure of it. Prince Shan returns to China within the course
of the next few days."

"We have lived so long," Nigel observed, "in dread of the unknown. I
wonder whether we shall ever understand the exact nature of the danger
with which we were faced."

"It depends upon Prince Shan," she replied. "The terms were Immelan's,
but the method was his."

"Do you believe," he asked a little abruptly, "that the attempt on
Prince Shan's life last night was made by Immelan?"

There was a touch, perhaps, of her Muscovite ancestry in the cool
indifference with which she considered the matter.

"I should think it most likely," she decided. "Prince Shan never changes
his mind, and I believe that he has decided against Immelan's scheme.
Immelan's only chance would be in Prince Shan's successor."

"Why is China so necessary?" Nigel asked.

She turned and smiled at her companion.

"Alas!" she sighed, "we have reached an _impasse_. The great English
diplomat asks too many questions of the simple Russian girl."

"It is unfortunate," he replied, in the same vein, "because I feel like
asking more."

"As, for example?"

"Whether you would be content to live for the rest of your life in any
other country except Russia."

"A woman is content to live anywhere, under certain circumstances," she
murmured.

Karschoff, discreetly announced, ent