“Terrify—you!” She pronounced the words with an emphasis not altogether unflattering. “You are better known in Russia than you imagine, M. V——.”
I passed over the remark.
“Still they must have foreseen the possibility that you would shrink from such a task; that your womanly instincts would prove too much for you. At least they have never required such work of you before?”
Against my will the last words became a question. I was anxious to be assured that the hands of the Princess were free from the stain of blood.
“Never! They dared not! They could not!” she cried indignantly. “You do not know my history. Perhaps you do not care to know it?”
Whatever I knew or suspected, I could make only one answer to such an appeal. Indeed, I was desirous to understand the meaning of one word which the Princess Y—— had just used.
“Listen,” she said, speaking with an energy and dignity which I could not but respect, “while I tell you what I am. I am a condemned murderess!”
“Impossible!”
“Impossible in any other country, I grant you, but very possible in Russia. You have heard, I suppose, everybody has heard, of the deaths of my husband and his children. The first two deaths were natural, I swear it. I, at all events, had no more to do with them than if they had occurred in the planet Saturn. Prince Y—— committed suicide. And he did so because of me; I do not deny it. But it was not because he suspected me of any hand in the deaths of his children. It was because he knew I hated him!