"One moment, princess, ere ordering my arrest. I do not venture upon this avowal without safeguarding myself. Listen! There lives at the present moment upon the other side of the frontier--in what town no matter--an individual devoted to my interests. To him I have entrusted the keeping of three sealed packets. So soon as he shall learn of my arrest he will thus act. One packet he will despatch to the Russian Foreign Minister; the second to the Duke of Bora; and with the third he will hasten to the office of the 'Kolokol' newspaper, whose pro-Russian editor, Lipski, will be but too delighted to print the contents of that packet; its publication will cause a stir in Czernova. There are your guards. Call them. Arrest me. Behead me on the spot if you will. But be sure of this: your own downfall will follow within seven days." Barbara did not call her guards. She said nothing, did nothing. "Princess, forgive me for using the language of threats; it is with reluctance that I adopt such a course. But--you recognize my power, and you know my love. Your answer?" "Better the cloister's quiet shade than a throne on such terms." "It is not the cloister's quiet shade that you will see, but the interior of a Russian fortress. In occupying the throne of Czernova you will be accused of assuming rights the reversion of which belongs to the Czar, inasmuch as he is next heir after the duke. The Czar will see in your usurpation an affront to his dignity. He will demand that you be sent to Russia, there to take your trial. And the cowardly duke will comply. You know how much 'the politician in petticoats' is hated by the Russian ministry, and what justice you are likely to receive at their hands. When the black wall of a Muscovite fortress girdles you round forever," he added in a significant whisper, "when rough soldiers are your jailers, when no cry of yours can penetrate to the outer world, then--then the love of a cardinal even would be a desirable thing." Barbara could not repress a feeling of horror at the picture suggested by these words. "If the duke should rule he will rule merely as the vassal of the Czar, and Czernova will become a province of Russia. Therefore, consider well your decision. You ruin not yourself only, but the faithful friends dependent upon you. Zabern, Radzivil, Dorislas, all the ministers whose policy has offended the Czar, will be delivered up to him by the duke. Czernova will be overrun by Cossack soldiery, and placed under martial law. Her young men will be drafted off to serve in the Russian army. The university will be closed, the Catholic Church persecuted. The wailings of Czernova will mount upward to Heaven, but when did Heaven ever listen to the cry of the oppressed? Princess, it is true I require of you a sacrifice, but it is a sacrifice meriting the name of virtue. The fate of a nation hangs upon your answer. How easy for you to save them by conferring happiness upon me!"