It seemed clear from this that the Duchess must be known to Pauline. What act had Pauline committed against the Duchess that it should be called by the strong term “guilt”? “That your Highness _has_ enemies,” he said, after an interval of silence, “is, alas! but too true. They, or rather their agents, are here to-night.” “How do you know this?” “Concealed behind some shrubbery I overheard four men talking.” “Of me? But not knowing my name how could you tell I was the person meant?” “Because they spoke of a lady wearing a grey mask and a grey serge domino trimmed with silver cord, such as I see yours to be. One question will show whether you are the lady meant by them. Tell me, are you not seeking to present a letter to the Czarina?” The Duchess looked a little oddly at Wilfrid, as if surprised at this knowledge on his part. “It is true. I have upon me a letter addressed to the Czarina,” she murmured, speaking with a certain hesitancy. “At this very moment these four men are looking for you, determined to prevent you, by means fair or otherwise, from giving that letter to the Czarina.” “Lord Courtenay, you must not leave me till I am safe in the ballroom again. This letter must not be taken from us.”—The “us” thrilled Wilfrid.—“I say us,” she continued, with a smile, as pleasant as it was mysterious, “because the letter is of vital consequence to you as well as to me.” “Your Highness is safe with me; have no fear. But since you seem to live in an atmosphere of peril, why not seek to escape from it?” “How?” “There is a way open to you,” said Wilfrid, with a sudden and bold inspiration. “The British Embassy is about to be re-established at St. Petersburg. Let that be your asylum. Come with me this night. Tell the Ambassador your secret history. Make him the guardian of your person. Under the protection of England you will be safe.” “Lord Courtenay,” she said decisively, “yours is an impossible remedy.” “I will believe so only when you have proved it to be such.” “Were I to take refuge there, the Czar would demand my surrender.” “Very likely; and my good uncle, the Ambassador, would meet the demand with a refusal.” “I think not. Let the refusal be given, however; that would not prevent the Czar from entering with his troops.” “Not so. Such an act were an outrage upon the law of nations. The Czar would have to face an immediate renewal of the war with England.” “And he would be ready to face it, were I to act as you suggest.” Was she really a person so great in the political world that her detention at the British Embassy would be a sufficient cause for war between two empires? It was an amazing statement, and yet her air, quiet and grave, somehow carried conviction with it. “Your Highness,” said Wilfrid, with a sort of reproachful despair, “have you not mystified me long enough? May I not know who you are? You promised at our last meeting to reveal to me your name and history.” “Let me redeem my word, then.”