astened to respond.
"There is, of course, the possibility that you yourself have been
deceived."

"Ah!"

She looked up at me in what I could not think was other than real
surprise.

"You think so?" she cried eagerly. The next moment her head drooped
again. "No, no. I have known them too long. They have never trifled
with me before. Believe me, Monsieur, when they told me that you were
to be murdered they were not joking with me."

"But they might have meant to use you for the purpose of terrifying
me."

She stared at me in unaffected astonishment.

"Terrify--_you_!" She pronounced the words with an emphasis not
altogether unflattering. "You are better known in Russia than you
imagine, M. V----."

I passed over the remark.

"Still they must have foreseen the possibility that you would shrink
from such a task; that your womanly instincts would prove too much
for you. At least they have never required such work of you before?"

Against my will the last words became a question. I was anxious to be
assured that the hands of the Princess were free from the stain of
blood.

"Never! They dared not! They _could_ not!" she cried indignantly.
"You do not know my history. Perhaps you do not care to know it?"

Whatever I knew or suspected, I could make only one answer to such an
appeal. Indeed, I was desirous to understand the meaning of one word
which the Princess Y---- had just used.

"Listen," she said, speaking with an energy and dignity which I could
not but respect, "while I tell you what I am. I am a condemned
murderess!"

"Impossible!"

"Impossible in any other country, I grant you, but very possible in
Russia. You have heard, I suppose, everybody has heard, of the deaths
of my husband and his children. The first two deaths were natural, I
swear it. I, at all events, had no more to do with them than if they
had occurred in the planet Saturn. Prince Y---- committed suicide.
And he did so because of me; I do not deny it. But it was not because
he suspected me of any hand in the deaths of his children. It was
because he knew I hated him!

"The story is almost too terrible to be told. That old man had bought
me. He bought me from my father, who was head over ears in debt, and
on the brink of ruin. I was sold--the only portion of his property
that remained to be sold. And from the first hour of the purchase I
hated, oh, how I loathed and hated that old man!"

There was a wild note in her voice that hinted