I was silent. I could not but understand that the Countess presumed her husband, Lady Tracy, and myself to be bound together by some vulgar intrigue, and I saw how my answer must needs strengthen her suspicions.
"How did he find out?" she repeated. "Tell me that!"
"Lady Tracy informed him," I answered, in despair.
"Then you admit that Lady Tracy knew?"
"I told her of the duel myself, on the very morning that I first met her--on the morning that I introduced her into your house."
"And why did she carry the news to her brother?"
Again I was silent, and again she pressed the question.
"She was afraid of you, and she sought her brother's protection," Every word I uttered seemed to plead against me. "I understand now why she was afraid. I did not know her miniature was in that case, but doubtless she did, and she was afraid you should connect her with Count Lukstein's death."
"Whereas," replied the Countess, "she had nothing to do with it?"
I had made up my mind what answer I should make to this question when it was put. Since I had plainly lost Ilga beyond all hope, I was resolved to spare her the knowledge of her husband's treachery. 'Twould not better my case--for in truth I cared little what became of me--to relate that disgraceful episode to her, and 'twould only add to her unhappiness. So I answered boldly: