“It is unnecessary,” the doctor replied; “I have a sufficient number of servants to watch over the household, and the presence of your man will only attract notice, and mayhap arouse suspicion. Leave Mademoiselle Zénaïde to me, and only hold yourself in readiness for any call.” I was reluctant enough to do this, and yet recognized the wisdom of his advice, and could not ask permission to stay on guard myself, although I longed to do so, and fancied that Von Gaden had already divined my secret. Whether that was the case or not, he was evidently anxious to get me out of the house, and I was compelled to submit to fate, and withdraw with what grace I could command. As I went out, I saw Lykof still sitting in the doctor’s study, and wondered a little at his errand. On the doorstep I found Pierrot, faithful to his duty. He reported that all was quiet, and he had seen nothing to arouse any suspicion that we had been traced to Von Gaden’s house; so I went to my quarters with a comparatively quiet mind. CHAPTER XVI. THE AUDIENCE-CHAMBER. THE following day I went to the Kremlin, mainly for the purpose of learning, if possible, the result of Zénaïde’s flight, for I was sure that the disappointment of Viatscheslav Naryshkin would soon be known. I reached the palace at the hour when the Czarina Natalia received various petitions, and the anterooms of the audience-chamber were crowded with courtiers and public personages. The etiquette of the Russian court was rigid, and on such occasions no one could sit in the presence of the sovereign; and it was not unusual to see boyars and officials go out into the courtyard to sit down and rest. As I entered the anteroom, Prince Basil Galitsyn was coming out, and he passed me with a smile. “Good-morning to you, squire of dames,” he said lightly, waving his hand to me as he passed on. I was puzzled, not only by the remark, but by the stir that my entrance made. I saw Homyak dodging away amidst the crowd, and there was a little hush in the murmur of talk, and more than one stranger craned his neck to gaze at me over another’s shoulder. Without heeding this unusual demonstration, I crossed the room to the reception hall, where two _rhinds_, or guards of honor, in white satin and silver uniform, stood on either side the door, and one of the chamberlains ushered in the visitors.