Princess Zara

"I have heard," she began, "that you yourself have seen some of the

horrors of Siberia, but I doubt it. I do not even believe that you are

a Russian, and to be perfectly frank I do not believe that your name is

Dubravnik. I am of the opinion--and I did not think of it until since

the commencement of this interview--that you are not what you seem to

be, and that your mission in Russia is in some way connected with the

Government police; that you are more than a passive enemy of

nihilism--that you are, in short, an active one. If I am right there

exists all the more reason why I must appeal to your manhood, your

honor, your sense of justice, to your bravery and chivalry. Who are

you, Mr. Dubravnik?"

"I am Daniel Derrington, an American, in the service of the czar."

"And therefore connected with the police."

"No. The police do not know me, save as you know me; not even the

terrible Third Section."

She scarcely noticed my confession, so absorbed was she by the mere

thought of the story she was about to relate.

Her eyes were turned towards the window, her hands clasped tightly

together in her lap, her chin was raised, and she seemed to be looking

into the past as one might look upon a picture hanging against the

wall, observing every detail of it minutely, and yet conscious only of

the whole.

"Fancy yourself, a Russian of noble birth, an officer in the army, a

favorite at court, the possessor of almost unlimited wealth and happy

beyond the dreams of heaven," she said, dreamily. "Search your memory

for the picture of a beautiful girl--she was only a girl, not yet

twenty, when my story begins--and make this one of whom I speak thrice

more beautiful than the picture you delineate. She was your sister. She

is your sister. You are her brother in the story I shall relate to

you. You two are fatherless and motherless; you are all that is left of

your family, once famous, and seemingly destined through you to become

so again. You are a favorite with the czar, and your sister is the pet

of the royal family. Your influence at court is unlimited. You are on

the summit of the wave of favor and popularity. Have you drawn the

picture?"

"I endeavor to do so, princess."

"You and Yvonne--she had a French name--reside in the same palace where

your fathers lived before you. Your sister is the idol of your heart.

You worship her with such devotion that it becomes a maxim quoted by

mothers to their sons. You idealize her, and are proud of her; and she

is worthy of it all. Ah, sir, follow me with care, for the story will

touch you, I believe, as nothing else could do."