“It is nothing of the sort, Katinka,” declared Ladislas, brusquely. “I have brought my friend, Paul, to help in getting your mother and Volna into some place of safety until the troubles here are over. He knows all about the Bremenhof entanglement and all about—er—Volna and myself. He acts entirely at my suggestion and on my behalf as my friend in this matter. You know that if any violence breaks out, the city will be no safe place for Volna or her mother—or any woman.”
“I am not going to run away,” said Katinka, with placid malice. “But of course Volna will jump at such a chance. Until this last deplorable affair, she was accustomed to listen to our advice.”
“I see no necessity for it, Ladislas,” was Paul’s verdict.
“We are of no account, Paul. It is not what we think, of course.”
“Where is your mother?” asked Ladislas.
The question was answered by the entrance of one of the sweetest old ladies I have ever seen. Just Volna, thirty-five or forty years older; but Volna without the spirit and capacity and plucky resource I had seen her shew.
“You are Mr. Anstruther, I am sure,” she said, as she gave me her hand with a sweet gracious smile. “I know you by my Volna’s description; and thank you from my heart for all you did.”
The brother and sister exchanged looks and shrugs.
“I did no more, madame, than any one would have done in a similar case.”
“You saved my dearest child, sir; and a mother’s heart knows how to be grateful.”