The possession of Madame Quéro's card had suggested new lines of thought. Of course, Peter did not know to what extent the beautiful singer was in the Prince's confidence. Here, naturally, he was groping wildly in the dark. But the more he diverted Zouroff's attention from himself on to other people, the better. In divulging what he proposed to do to the Prince, it was more than probable that he would implicate the young Princess Nada. And Peter had a very soft spot in his heart for her. Still, it was simply a question of saving himself. If Zouroff saw red and laid all about him, as it were, Nada must protect herself. Even a ruffian like Zouroff would exercise some compunction when his sister was in question. With regard to La Belle Quéro, who had, at times, treated him a little disdainfully, with the slight arrogance of a person who had emerged from his own class into a superior one, Peter felt no qualms. The Prince and she could adjust their own differences at the proper time and hour. Later on, he approached Zouroff with his fawning and cringing aspect, and handed him Madame Quéro's card. "You know that my eyes and ears are always open in your Excellency's service," he whined. "That is what I have found." Zouroff's face grew as black as thunder as he read it. "She has been here, then. To see whom?" Peter shrugged his shoulders. He wanted to be as non-committal as possible. "That I cannot tell. Your Excellency may guess better than I." The Prince looked at him long and intently. Peter was a very cunning rogue; that he knew full well; but he was the last man he was inclined to suspect. "How did you come into possession of this?" he thundered. But Peter was determined not to implicate his sweetheart, Katerina. In this respect he was a slightly better man than his master. "Your Excellency will excuse me; my lips are sealed. One must be faithful to one's comrades. There are wheels within wheels, as you well know." The Prince nodded. He knew Peter well. In many ways he was docile and obedient, but it was always politic not to push him too far; on such occasions the valet was apt to take on a spirit of sturdy independence which his master was compelled to respect. Wild horses would not draw from him how, or through whom, he had discovered that card. "Leave me, Peter, if you please," commanded Zouroff. "I must be alone to think this thing over, since you say your lips are sealed." He shook his fist angrily in the direction of the retreating valet. "Ah, for my good old father's days," he murmured regretfully. "I would have had it out of you with the knout then, my excellent friend." Left alone, Zouroff pondered out all these things in his subtle brain. The treacherous Madame Quéro had come to the Palace, to seek whom, and to what purpose?