She leaned back with luxurious grace and smiled at him with frank good humour. “I know I’m very brazen to capture you in this manner, but that’s the privilege of an elderly widow.” “Elderly?” “Twenty-seven, sir!” “Then that puts me, too, in the decrepit class.” “Oh, a single man never grows too old for woman to smile at. He’s comparatively immortal.” “Hum. And the moral to that is----” “No, it isn’t. Be mortal--for some one woman’s sake. Thus the elderly widow advises. But besides my old age,” she went on, “I have another excuse for taking you prisoner. For a week or more I’ve been waiting to have a little chat with you.” “I’ve--ah--been in Moscow, you know,” explained Drexel. “Yes, I know. But now at last I have you at my mercy.” Her smile faded away, her face leaned nearer, and her rallying tone sank to a serious whisper. “I want to talk on an important matter, Mr. Drexel, and I am going to speak to you openly, frankly. I can play the diplomat, but with a man of affairs like you, I know it is best to come straight to the point.” Since he had first met the countess, Drexel had known her as a popular figure in the brilliant society frequented by the high officials that surround the Czar and fill the ministries, by the smart and noble officers of the Imperial Guard, by that ever-changing influx of officers who, after representing for a year or two the Czar’s autocratic might in some stupid, provincial town, or in some remote army station, come to St. Petersburg to renew themselves with a few months of the capital’s thoughtless gaiety. Yet he had guessed there was something beneath her surface of society devotee. She had piqued his curiosity, so now he felt a sudden flutter of interest as he said, “Please go on.” Her dark, lustrous eyes searched deep into his own for a silent moment--then the elbow that supported her smooth cheek slipped yet nearer along the window-sill, and her voice dropped to a yet softer tone. “You are a man to be trusted. I put myself, my life, in your hands.” She glanced quickly at the door and back again. “I am a revolutionist.” “A revolutionist!” he breathed. “All my soul is with those who fight the Czar.” He stared at her. Indeed, there was something beneath the surface! And that two such women as she and the princess should---- She interrupted his surprise with her rapid, barely audible words. “There is a noble part open to you, if you will only take it.” “And that?” “To help us.” “How?” “You have heard about Borodin--his arrest--what he means to the revolutionary cause?” “Yes.” “To rescue him is what at this moment we revolutionists desire most of all to do. If you would join us in that attempt, our chance of success would be greatly increased.” “Increased? How?” “You are shrewd,” she whispered. “And you could attempt bolder things than other men, for, your position being what it is, no one would suspect you. Yes, you could do much--much!”