"A most excellent idea, my good old friend and cousin, but in this century we cannot proceed on strictly mediæval lines. Besides, we want to take them, so to speak, red-handed. Golitzine is working admirably. So are Burovkin and Beilski; they will see to the soldiers and the police. They wanted to arrange my part in the affair--I know what they would have proposed, that I should absent myself--I determined to take the matter in hand personally. If I am not there, and they already know how I purpose to be dressed, they will not carry out their plot; they will postpone it, and we shall still be hanging on the tenterhooks of suspense, wondering when the blow will fall. Let it fall to-night, as they have planned, and let them be taken red-handed. That is my policy." Sergius stared at his master with a puzzled expression. His slow brain could not follow the Emperor's explanation. Certainly, it would be very easy for him to go round to the Zouroff Palace and strangle its master; half a dozen others, if necessary. This was surely the most certain way to his soldier-like and practical mind. "Sergius, my good friend, this affair wants a little diplomacy, which you and I will carry out between us. I shall acquaint Golitzine and the others with it, say, an hour before the reception begins. They think they have the monopoly of brains, that their Emperor must always think the thoughts they put into his head, always speak the words they prepare for him. Well, I am going to show them that sometimes I can act upon my own initiative. I have prepared a little stratagem, in which I invite your co-operation. I will explain it to you." He unfolded his scheme to the puzzled and interested Sergius. The blunt soldier rose up when the Emperor had finished, and smiled delightedly. "Excellent, most excellent, Sire. You can rely upon me; you may be sure I shall not fail to play my part." At midnight the vast saloons of the Winter Palace were thronged with a happy, joyous crowd. Zouroff was there, in a disguise that he thought nobody could penetrate. The other seven leaders were there also, safe as they thought from recognition. Corsini was there, having come on from the Opera. And the young Princess had come also, with the Countess Golitzine. At first she had protested. She wished to see the Emperor triumph, as she was assured he would; but the Emperor's triumph would mean the ruin of her brother. Basely as he had treated her, she was reluctant to assist at the spectacle of his degradation. But curiosity prevailed, the natural curiosity of being in at the finish of things. And besides, the Countess had told her that she would give to Corsini a description of her costume, and obtain from him one of his, so that they could easily recognise each other. In the end, she went.