Though not as yet deposed from his command of the army, Bora did not doubt that this would follow, and that Zabern would be his successor. Very bitter, indeed, then, was his smile as he handed the sabre over to the marshal. "I am curious to learn, fair cousin," he sneered, "the punishment you reserve for my opponent, equally guilty with myself of breaking the law." "There is your escort to Slavowitz," said Barbara haughtily, pointing to the posse of uhlans. And Bora, with a dark glance at Paul, walked in the direction indicated. "For my part," observed Baron Ostrova airily, "I prefer liberty. I shake the dust of Czernova from my feet." "Forever," decreed the princess. "Oh, your Highness, your reign will not last so long as that," replied the other, with a peculiar smile, adding to himself, "Your reign, my lady, is but a question of a few weeks." Taking off his hat, he dropped it to the ground, and bowed so low over it as almost to touch the turf with his fingers, herein imitating an old custom of the Polish serf when addressing his lord. "I kiss the feet of the dainty Lady Natalie," he said. Then, picking up his hat, the Baron walked off to a little distance, where he stood watching the sequel. Paul longed to thrash the fellow for his insolence, but prudently refrained from creating a disturbance in Russian territory. "Trevisa," said the princess, "in remembrance of your many services I remit the penalty due by law, but," and there was genuine sorrow in her tone, "you lose your secretaryship." "Your Highness," stammered Trevisa, his whole manner showing how deeply he felt the loss of his office. "Fine. Imprisonment. Any punishment but that." "The cipher, your Highness," murmured Zabern. "The cipher letter! We cannot do without Trevisa." "Let me intercede for him," said Paul, bending his knee. The princess had last heard that voice in the twilight hour by the dark blue sea on the shore of Isola Sacra. The memory of that event came back with a rush that almost stifled her breath. "His only fault is," pleaded Paul, "that he has been too great a friend." "To you, but not to our law," she murmured faintly. "My servants must not be law-breakers." There was a brief interval of silence. "Your Highness," said Paul, rising to his feet, "I await my sentence." "You are safe where you stand," she faltered. Her manner plainly besought him to remain where he was, and thus relieve her from a painful situation. "I will not take advantage of _that_." And by a few steps Paul passed from the jurisdiction of the Czar to that of Barbara. The look in her eyes was like that of a fawn at bay. Love forbade her to punish Paul, and yet, while meting punishment to others, how, without bringing reproach to herself, could she let him go free? "Your Highness," intervened Trevisa, "my friend Captain Woodville has received extreme provocation from the duke, and when he accepted the challenge, was ignorant of the Czernovese law relating to duelling."