“It was told to me in confidence,” continued Lord St. Helens, “but I see no reason why I should not tell you. The story is certain to be made public property within four and twenty hours. Well, here it is then. Like the rest of the diplomatic body, I received an invitation to this Sumaroff fête, and looked in for a short time just before supper; and am not sorry at having gone, for there, in spite of his mask, I recognised my old friend Panine. He was in a state of great agitation, caused by something he had just heard from Alexander.” “Alexander was at the fête, then?” “Of course he was.” “Prince Sumaroff publicly announced that he wasn’t.” “Never believe public announcements—in Russia. He _was_ there, but retired before supper-time. As you will see he had very good reason for wishing to be alone with his thoughts. Talking of Alexander, I suppose you know that he was married when only sixteen years old—that is, at an age scarcely capable of forming a just judgment. As a matter of fact he had no voice in the choosing of his wife; she was chosen for him by his grandmother Catharine, and our poor Alexander had no alternative but to obey. “It is obvious that a marriage of this sort, contracted for political reasons merely, cannot yield that happiness arising from a union based on mutual affection. Far be it from me to speak one word adverse to the young Czarina Elizavetta; she is beautiful, she is charming, she is good; but still, you know the remark of the old Roman to the persons who were praising his wife: ‘This to you may seem an excellent sandal,’ he said, taking it off. ‘I alone know where it pinches.’ So of the Czarina. To us she may seem an ideal consort; Alexander alone knows where the sandal pinches.” “It is easy to see to what all this is preliminary.” “Just so. The usual result when kings are forced to mate from policy. Our Alexander looks round to find a companion more to his taste.” “And the lady’s name?” “Is a secret unknown to Panine, and therefore to me.” “Has the intrigue reached a guilty stage?—but no, it cannot have.” Lord St. Helens wondered at the husky voice and at the strange look with which his nephew put this question. “Panine thinks not. In fact, judging from what happened to-night at the masquerade, it must be inferred that the love is on the Czar’s side only.” “Why, what _did_ happen?” “A masquerade, as you know, affords excellent facilities for an intrigue. The Czar, aware that his inamorata would be at this fête, determined himself to be present He came without state, masked, and costumed, and sought eagerly, as we may suppose, for his lady-love, and at last found her.” “Alone?” “Hardly. She was with another man, and—one can scarcely refrain from smiling—the pair were in the act of kissing each other as the Czar came upon them.” “How did you learn this?” “It was witnessed by Panine.” “By Panine!” repeated Wilfrid.