M. Darzac left us, shaking his head, doubtfully. He was angrier than we had ever seen him. Rouletabille remarked: “Mme. Darzac will not leave us and M. Darzac will stay if she does.” And he started off on his rounds. A few moments later, I caught sight of Mme. Edith. She was charmingly dressed, with a simplicity which suited her marvellously. She smiled at me coquettishly, but her gayety seemed a little forced as she jested at my “new trade.” I answered her, perhaps a little too quickly, that she was uncharitable in her jests, because she knew quite well that all the trouble which we were taking and the careful watch which we were maintaining might be the means, at any moment, of saving the sweetest of women from untold misery and danger. She looked at me mockingly and cried with a sharp little laugh: “Oh, surely. ‘The Lady in Black!’ She has you all under her spell.” What a ringing laugh she had! At another time, rest assured, I would not have allowed anyone to speak so lightly of “the Lady in Black,” but this morning I had not the strength of mind to assert myself. On the contrary, I laughed, too. “Perhaps, there is a little truth in that speech,” I returned. “My husband is crazy about her! I never would have believed that he could be so romantic. But, then,” she went on, with a droll little sigh, “I am romantic, too!” And she turned upon me that same curious look which had disturbed me before. “Ah?” That was all that I could find to answer. “And, therefore,” she continued, “I take very great pleasure in the conversation of Prince Galitch, who is more romantic than all the rest of you put together.” Whereupon I asked her who was this Prince Galitch of whom I had heard so much but had not yet seen. She told me that he was coming to luncheon--that she had invited him on our accounts; and she gave me a few particulars in regard to him from which I learned that Prince Galitch was one of the richest landholders in his own part of Russia--that portion called the “Black Lands,” fertile above all others, and situated between the forests of the North and the steppes of the Midi. Fallen heir, at the age of twenty, to one of the greatest of Muscovite estates, he had increased his patrimony by economical and intelligent management of which no one would have believed a man so young to be capable--especially one who had heretofore had his hounds and his books as his principal objects in life. He was called a hermit, a miser and a poet. He had inherited, from his father a high position at court. He was a chamberlain to His Majesty and, on account of the immense services rendered by the parent, the Emperor was supposed to regard the son with a great deal of affection. He was at once as gentle as a woman and as strong as a Turk--in brief, a thorough Russian gentleman. I cannot tell why, but I felt a singular antipathy for the Prince without ever having set eyes on him.