"One of my own ministers secretly corresponding with the Czar!" murmured Barbara in dismay. "Who is the traitor! Whom do you suspect, my lords?" turning sharply upon her ministers. "I know not in the least at whom to point the finger," replied the premier. A smile flickered over Zabern's face, and he murmured to himself, "Blind Radzivil!" "You suspect some one, marshal?" said Barbara, reading his looks. "Your Highness, I do, but prefer to verify my suspicions ere stating them. I will say this much, however," continued Zabern, bending forward over the table and speaking in a whisper, "he whom I suspect is not one of the 'Transfigured.'" The princess seemed somewhat relieved by this last statement. "My spies are attentive to the traitor's movements," continued Zabern. "Nay, more; I have his emissary under lock and key in the Citadel." "You refer to the man Russakoff?" asked Radzivil. "Yes. I am convinced that he is the intermediary of this treasonable correspondence, and nothing but her Highness's clemency prevents me from learning the name of his principal." "My clemency? How?" asked Barbara in surprise. "The rack would soon make him confess." "Oh! no, marshal," returned the princess, quickly. "No prisoner shall be put to the torture during my _régime_. I am trying to civilize Czernova. The rack would indeed be a return to barbarism." "Then we must fall back upon our secretary, Trevisa, and pray the saints that he will unravel that cipher despatch. It may give us the clue we want." "A traitor in the cabinet!" murmured Barbara. "Russia's arm is long and crafty; when will it be stayed? That desire of our hearts, a war betwixt England and Russia, seems as far off as ever." "Nearer than men think," returned Zabern. "And strange to say, our capital contains at the present moment an Englishman whose words may have the effect of bringing it about." "Who is this potent personage?" asked Barbara in surprise. "A certain Captain Woodville, lately returned from India." Zabern had been apprised by Radzivil of the duke's suspicion as to a former love-affair between the princess and this English captain, and therefore while speaking he watched Barbara with an eye ready to detect the slightest change in her manner. But the princess showed no confusion of face at the mention of the name "Woodville," and the marshal was forced to the conclusion that the duke was laboring under an error. Or, he murmured to himself, "the princess knows well how to hide her feelings." "Woodville? Woodville?" repeated Barbara pensively; and then her face brightening, she added, "Surely not the Woodville of Tajapore renown?" "The very same," replied Radzivil. "He is staying at the Hôtel de Varsovie. I had a--a brief conversation with him this morning." At this moment the premier received from Zabern a look which warned him to say as little as possible concerning that interview.