“Ah me! If only I had told Lord Courtenay yesterday who his inamorata is, it would have prevented me from beginning this course of deception. Not till nightfall did it suddenly occur to me that knowledge of this fact would have been the best way of making him cease from the duel; and then from very pity I refrained from the telling, knowing what pain the revelation would bring him, and now—now it is too late! What will he think when he learns—as learn he must—how basely I am deceiving him?” “Pooh! what matters what he thinks?” “Much—to me,” she answered moodily. At this point the pair found themselves appealed to by Wilfrid. “Was there not a letter in the Princess’s dress-pocket?” he asked, giving his reason for the question. “I can of myself testify that there was not,” said the unabashed doctor, “for I examined her clothing in the hope of finding some clue to her identity. If it were the object of the four ruffians to get hold of a compromising letter we can scarcely expect them to leave it upon her person.” A specious argument that answered the purpose intended. The Princess here put to Wilfrid a very sensible suggestion. “This Prince Ouvaroff, who as you say acted as my escort from some unknown place to St. Petersburg, must surely know who I am. Is it not possible to communicate with him?” “You echo my thoughts,” said Pauline. “Dr. Beauvais and I will go to St. Petersburg this very day for the purpose of seeing the Prince upon this matter.” This proposal on the part of Pauline was more acceptable to the Princess than it was to Wilfrid. “Supposing,” he whispered to Pauline, “that Ouvaroff suspects the motive of your questioning, and springs to the conclusion that Princess Marie must be at Runö?” “Why, in that case,” whispered Pauline in turn, “she would be restored to her old surroundings. But have no fear. I’ll approach the matter so cautiously that he shall suspect nothing. I must not delay, however, lest I be too late, for he told me at the masquerade that the Czar was about to send him on a diplomatic mission to Berlin.” So, accompanied by Beauvais, Pauline went the same day to St. Petersburg, but made no attempt to see Prince Ouvaroff. While the doctor was transacting some private business, Pauline visited first the British Ambassador, and had an interview with him, which terminated with these words on her part: “Never mind how he was persuaded to give up the duel; you have my word for it that St. Petersburg and the Czar will see him no more. _That_ surely ought to content you.” And it did, the Ambassador breathing a sigh of relief that the awkward business was over. The bureau of Loris Baranoff, Chief of the Secret Police, was the next place to receive a call from her, and to judge by her smile as she quitted his office the result of her mission was a complete success. CHAPTER XXVII THE CZAR’S PORTRAIT