Still staring, Ivan brought the black bread and bologna from the window-sill, and started the samovar going. While the tea was being prepared, and the breakfast being devoured, Drexel told them as much as he thought wise of what had happened in the three days since he had fled this room. “And now I want some clothes. I dare not go out in this dress and buy civilized garments. One of you must do it for me.” He laid money on the table and made a note of his sizes. “And now I’m going to sleep.” With that he stretched himself upon the couch, the revolver of the wary Nicolai upon him. Not again would they be caught off their guard and tricked! For a time his mind was filled with painful fears for Sonya; but his weariness was overpowering, and soon he slipped off into deep slumber. It seemed to him that scarce fifteen minutes had passed when hushed voices from far, far above vaguely penetrated his sleep. He seemed to float slowly up out of bottomless depths to consciousness. One voice now sounded like a woman’s voice. That a woman should be here seemed curious. He opened his eyes. The next instant he was on his feet. “Sonya!” he cried. CHAPTER XVI THE WHITE ONE She rose and crossed to him; and Ivan and Nicolai slipped out. She was dressed as he had seen her in this same room a week before--in the coarse, quilted jacket and head-swathing shawl of a factory girl. Their hands gripped. He had never known before what the grip of a hand could be. Nor how glowing a pair of blue eyes. “I thought you were sick!” he cried. “Only a pretense,” she smiled. He drew a breath of relief. “But even though you are well, how did you manage to come here?” “The time had come for me to stop being Princess Valenko--so I just stopped.” “Ah, I see. You have at length given up all that!” “No--not yet.” “Then how did you manage to leave home?--how did you dare?” They sat down together on the couch, peasant and working-girl. Drexel now noticed that a lamp was burning, and that without the window was blackness; plainly he had slept the whole day. “As soon as you told me last night where Borodin is,” she began, “I complained to my father about feeling a fever coming on. I urged him to take me home at once, so that I could have the proper attention in case the fever developed seriously. I sent for my own doctor; I said I would have no other. He is a friend--a revolutionist. He found I had a high fever; he ordered day and night nurses--also revolutionists; he said that my condition was so serious that no one should be allowed to see me--not even my father. “I waited till the way was made clear for me, then in these clothes I slipped out through the servants’ entrance. Until further notice the nurses will be keeping night and day watch upon Princess Valenko; they will order special food for her; the doctor will visit her two or three times a day, and issue bulletins regarding her condition. And in the meantime--here I am.” “Wonderful!” laughed Drexel.