Princess Zara

"I think you may be assured of that."

"You guessed correctly a moment ago, about my receiving intelligence

concerning your visit here, before the compositors set the type of the

announcement; but the intelligence was incorporated among other things

that were conveyed to me in the same manner, and by the same message.

It had no direct significance, and beyond the mere statement of the

fact, there was no comment. I was not directed to call upon you, and in

fact there was no suggestion made that bore directly upon your presence

here. But, Zara, the mere statement of your intention conveyed to me

very many suggestions which I have come here to-day to make known to

you. I believe it to be my clear duty to do so."

"Well, my friend?"

"You know who and what I have been, and am. Always close to the person

of the czar; for very many years deeply in his confidence, and

possessing I believe his friendship to an extraordinary degree, it has

been my pleasure as well as my duty to serve my emperor in many secret

ways which our little world at St. Petersburg does not know or

appreciate. The fact that I am at present an expatriate, as you have so

aptly stated, is due to reasons which I need not explain, and which do

not concern us just now. The fact that I am one, has stationed me in

New York by choice, and not by direction; but I thank God that I am

here to greet you upon your arrival because I hope by very plain

speaking to change a course you have determined upon, and to induce

you----"

"Wait one moment, Saberevski. Don't you think that you are getting

rather beyond your depth? I appreciate all that you are trying so

vainly to tell me. I know of your personal interest in me, and I honor

you and thank you for it. But it is not like Alexis Saberevski to

hesitate over a statement he has decided to make, and if I am not

mistaken you began this discourse with a determination to be frank.

Might I suggest that you make yourself more plain?"

"I have been called a diplomat of the first order, Zara," he replied,

with a smile, "but your straight-forward methods, and my resolute

purpose, make my course of procedure somewhat difficult. I will,

however, be entirely frank."

"That is better."

"Zara de Echeveria, Alexis Saberevski informs you now that he knows you

to be high in the councils of the nihilists."

Was there a suggestion of pallor for an instant upon the countenance of

the princess? Was there a quick but imperceptible intaking of her

breath? Was there a deepening in the expression of her matchless eyes,

and an imperceptible widening of them, as they dwelt upon her

companion? Was there a stiffening of her figure in its attitude of

quiet repose, and did her muscles attain a sudden rigidity, induced by

that startling announcement? Saberevski could not have answered any one

of these questions. So perfectly were the features and the facial

expression of Princess Zara under her control that she outwardly

betrayed no sign of the effect of the announcement. And yet it might

well have affected her most deeply; might have startled her even into a

cry of terror; should have filled her with instant fear, because this

man who made it was one, who in his former official capacity could have

condemned almost any person in Russia to exile by a gesture, or a word.

And Zara did not doubt that his official capacity still obtained. She

knew him to be an expatriate as she had announced. She understood that

for some reason, not apparent, he had become a voluntary exile from his

native country and city, and might never again return to the scenes he

loved best. But she also knew that he was no less closely in the

confidence of the Russian emperor, and could never be any the less

inimical to the enemies of the czar. A statement such as he had made,

coming from him, charging her with complicity in revolutionary acts

which had for their object the assassination of the Russian ruler and

his possible successors, contained an implied threat more terrible in

its consequences than any other one which could have been made; more

terrible to her, personally, than to any other person against whom it

might have been made, because she knew by the experiences of one of her

girl friends, to what extremities of mental and moral torture a

Siberian exile may be condemned.