Her face, which was young and still rather pretty, though common, was distorted. Her eyes seemed glued to the corpse. "Who are you?" asked Paul. She replied, sobbing: "I was his sweetheart . . . and better than that . . . or rather worse. He had taken an oath that he would marry me. . . . But Karl's oath! He was such a liar, sir, such a coward! . . . Oh, the things I know of him! . . . I myself, simply through holding my tongue, gradually became his accomplice. He used to frighten me so! I no longer loved him, but I was afraid of him and obeyed him . . . with such loathing, at the end! . . . And he knew how I loathed him. He used often to say, 'You are quite capable of killing me some day or other.' No, sir, I did think of it, but I should never have had the courage. It was only just now, when I saw that he was going to stab you . . . and above all when I heard your name. . . ." "My name? What has that to do with it?" "You are Madame Delroze's husband." "Well?" "Well, I know her. Not for long, only since to-day. This morning, Karl, on his way from Belgium, passed through the town where I was and took me to Prince Conrad's. He told me I was to be lady's maid to a French lady whom we were going to take to a castle. I knew what that meant. I should once more have to be his accomplice, to inspire confidence. And then I saw that French lady, I saw her crying; and she was so gentle and kind that I felt sorry for her. I promised to rescue her . . . Only, I never thought that it would be in this way, by killing Karl. . . ." She drew herself up suddenly and said, in a hard voice: "But it had to be, sir. It was bound to happen, for I knew too much about him. It had to be he or I. . . . It was he . . . and I can't help it and I'm not sorry. . . . He was the wickedest wretch on earth; and, with people like him, one mustn't hesitate. No, I am not sorry." Paul asked: "He was devoted to the Comtesse Hermine, was he not?" She shuddered and lowered her voice to reply: "Oh, don't speak of her, please! She is more terrible still; and she is still alive. Ah, if she should ever suspect!" "Who is the woman?" "How can I tell? She comes and goes, she is the mistress wherever she may be. . . . People obey her as they do the Emperor. Everybody fears her . . . as they do her brother." "Her brother?" "Yes, Major Hermann." "What's that? Do you mean to say that Major Hermann is her brother?" "Why, of course! Besides, you have only to look at him. He is the very image of the Comtesse Hermine!" "Have you ever seen them together?" "Upon my word, I can't remember. Why do you ask?" Time was too precious for Paul to insist. The woman's opinion of the Comtesse Hermine did not matter much. He asked: "She is staying at the prince's?" "For the present, yes. The prince is on the first floor, at the back; she is on the same floor, but in front."