The young man then drew a pistol from his pocket, exclaiming: “You old witch, I’ll force you to tell me!” At the sight of the weapon the Countess gave a second sign of life. She threw back her head and put out her hands as if to protect herself; then they dropped and she sat motionless. Herman grasped her arm roughly, and was about to renew his threats, when he saw that she was dead! * * * * * Seated in her room, still in her ball-dress, Lisaveta gave herself up to her reflections. She had expected to find the young officer there, but she felt relieved to see that he was not. Strangely enough, that very night at the ball, Tomsky had rallied her about her preference for the young officer, assuring her that he knew more than she supposed he did. “Of whom are you speaking?” she had asked in alarm, fearing her adventure had been discovered. “Of the remarkable man,” was the reply. “His name is Herman.” Lisa made no reply. “This Herman,” continued Tomsky, “is a romantic character; he has the profile of a Napoleon and the heart of a Mephistopheles. It is said he has at least three crimes on his conscience. But how pale you are.” “It is only a slight headache. But why do you talk to me of this Herman?” “Because I believe he has serious intentions concerning you.” “Where has he seen me?” “At church, perhaps, or on the street.” The conversation was interrupted at this point, to the great regret of the young girl. The words of Tomsky made a deep impression upon her, and she realized how imprudently she had acted. She was thinking of all this and a great deal more when the door of her apartment suddenly opened, and Herman stood before her. She drew back at sight of him, trembling violently. “Where have you been?” she asked in a frightened whisper. “In the bed-chamber of the Countess. She is dead,” was the calm reply. “My God! What are you saying?” cried the girl. “Furthermore, I believe that I was the cause of her death.” The words of Tomsky flashed through Lisa’s mind. Herman sat down and told her all. She listened with a feeling of terror and disgust. So those passionate letters, that audacious pursuit were not the result of tenderness and love. It was money that he desired. The poor girl felt that she had in a sense been an accomplice in the death of her benefactress. She began to weep bitterly. Herman regarded her in silence. “You are a monster!” exclaimed Lisa, drying her eyes. “I didn’t intend to kill her; the pistol was not even loaded.” “How are you going to get out of the house?” inquired Lisa. “It is nearly daylight. I intended to show you the way to a secret staircase, while the Countess was asleep, as we would have to cross her chamber. Now I am afraid to do so.” “Direct me, and I will find the way alone,” replied Herman. She gave him minute instructions and a key with which to open the street door. The young man pressed the cold, inert hand, then went out.