“There’s the point, the very point in our favour. She _can’t_ reveal it.” “In heaven’s name, why not?” “Because, though her intellect be otherwise as clear and as bright as your own—and that’s saying a good deal, Baroness—it is accompanied by one defect. The awful shock occasioned by her sudden plunge into the waters of the Neva has had the effect of depriving her, not of her whole memory, but of a part of it—that part relating to her personal identity. She cannot recall her own name. You don’t believe it, I see,” smiled the doctor, noting her look of scepticism, “but you can soon test my words. Go and see your rival. She won’t know you!” CHAPTER XXVI WITHOUT A MEMORY! While Pauline repaired to the Princess’s chamber, the doctor went off to Wilfrid’s room to acquaint him with the strange news. Being new to mental phenomena of this sort, Wilfrid received the announcement with every token of unbelief. “Do you mean to say,” he asked in amazement, “that she cannot tell how she came to be in the Neva?” “Has no recollection whatever of the event. Her mind is a complete blank as to her past: cannot recall the name of a friend or the name of any place where she has dwelt.” “In what mood is she. Sad?” “Not at all. Smiles at her own perplexity—in fact, her loss of memory seems rather to amuse her.” “And how long is this state likely to last?” Beauvais shrugged his shoulders. “One cannot say. A week: a month: a year. Perhaps for the rest of her life.” “And you have no idea who she is?” “Not in the least; nor has the Baroness. Am I justified in supposing from your agitation last night that she is the lady that set you and the Czar at feud?” Wilfrid replied that such was the case. “Ah! Then of course you give up all thoughts of this duel?” “Honour calls me to it.” “But the lady’s safety calls you from it. Now that, thanks to your uncle, the name of the Czar’s opponent is known to Count Panine, your appearance in St. Petersburg will be instantly followed by your arrest and deportation to the frontier. In such case what help can you give the lady, should her enemies discover that she is still alive? Her state calls for a protector, and your past relations with her entitle you to assume that rôle.” This way of putting the case modified Wilfrid’s views, and—“Postponed indefinitely,” became his decision on the question of the duel. The Princess’s loss of memory filled Wilfrid with extreme disquietude. When he last saw her she had been in a vein bordering upon love; this new state of mind on her part would now cause her to be ignorant of his very existence. He would have to begin his love-making all over again, and might—fail! He breakfasted with the doctor, who, the meal ended, paid another visit to his patient, returning almost immediately with the good news that she was strong enough to be up and dressed. So, as soon as word came that the Princess’s toilet was completed, Wilfrid sought her presence.