Alarmed--not in her virtue, but in her affection, which was wholly of pride--for her daughter, as to the consequences that might follow upon such an intrigue, the ex-Countess Barineff watched the princess more closely. It was soon impossible to have any doubt of her relations with the handsome foreigner, for one evening her mother caught them almost in each other's arms in the great alley of Pampeln, which had been the scene of the declaration of their love. The general's wife was, as we have said, a woman of energy. The next morning, before breakfast, wasting no time in beating about the bush, she appeared in Paul Meyrin's room, without having her visit announced beforehand. Astonished, to begin with, by her appearance, the artist was very soon still more so by her speech, for without preamble or oratorical devices she said: "Monsieur, I come to ask you to bid adieu to the other guests this very day, and to leave Pampeln. You will write to the prince, who is away and will not be back before night, that you have had letters from Paris summoning you to return at once." "I do not understand you, madame," stammered the young man. "You had better, however, without forcing me to explain further. I introduced you to Prince Olsdorf, and I am therefore in some degree answerable for your behavior under his roof. This responsibility is already too great, and I desire not to be any longer under it." "But, madame, were the prince to believe the excuse I should make, following your advice, for my sudden leave-taking, there are others who perhaps would be less credulous." "That is no concern of mine. You may tell them what you like. The best way would be to say nothing--to anybody; but you must go. Give me your promise." "Must?" "You know well that I have the right--that it is my duty--to speak thus." "And if I refuse to obey?" "If you refuse, in ten minutes' time two of General Podoi's friends will wait on you with a challenge--discreet friends who will find reasons for a duel that will compromise nobody but myself. The shame of fighting with an old man will be yours, and then you can not stay here." That good fellow Podoi had little idea that the woman who bore his name was at that moment disposing of his life so calmly. Still, she knew that there was no need to consult her husband in any event, and that in a delicate case of the kind she would find him, as he always was, ready to obey any wish of hers. Much embarrassed, and knowing not how to get himself out of this downright trap, Paul Meyrin was silent. He was sure that he had to do with a woman that would not give way. "Come, now," the ex-Countess Barineff went on, dryly, "will you or will you not go?" "I will go," replied the painter, bowing. "This evening?" "You will surely grant me a respite of twenty-four hours. I promise I will start to-morrow morning."