CHAPTER XVI
A STRANGE CONFESSION
I had last seen the strange, beautiful, wicked woman known as the Princess Y—— bending in a passion of hysterical remorse over the body of the man she had driven to death, on the snow-clad train outside Mukden.
I have had some experience of women, and especially of the class which mixes in the secret politics of the European Courts. But Sophia Y—— was an enigma to me. There was nothing about her which suggested the adventuress. And there was much which tended to support the story which had won the belief of her august mistress—that she was an involuntary agent, who had been victimized by an unscrupulous minister of police, by means of a false charge, and who genuinely loathed the tasks she was too feeble to refuse.
I had not been back in Petersburg very long when one afternoon the hotel waiter came to tell me that a lady desired to see me privately. The lady, he added, declined to give her name, but declared that she was well known to me.
I had come back to the hotel, I should mention, in the character of Mr. Sterling, the self-appointed agent of the fraternity of British peace-makers. It was necessary for me to have some excuse for residing in Petersburg during the war, and under this convenient shelter I could from time to time prepare more effectual disguises.
I was not altogether surprised when my mysterious visitor raised her veil and disclosed the features of the Princess herself.