“We must either blind the Countess Bokara or get her away to a place of safety until we have had some time to act. But the leakage must be traced.”
“Who can it be, Nathalie?” cried the Princess, in a tone of dismay. “Have you tried to cure this mad woman of her prejudice against me, Count?”
“I have had as yet no opportunity. Since my first meeting with her, I have seen her only once for a few minutes in the presence of the Prince until this morning, when she came to confound me with this news, and to urge me to join her in assassinating you.”
“She chose her companion curiously,” said the Princess, with a smile of confidence that went straight to my heart. “I hope my safety may never be in less trusty hands than yours.”
I did not trust myself to answer with more than a look, and as I turned my eyes away I caught the little Broumoff eying us keenly. Then the Princess startled us both.
“I have made up my mind; I will see her,” she said.
“Christina, it is impossible!” cried Mademoiselle Broumoff quickly. “She would murder you with her own hand.”
“The Count will guard against that at least, and he will arrange the interview. Will you not?”
“I would do much to serve you, but this would be a hazardous step, and one that can scarcely lead to any good. You can have but the faintest idea of her hatred of you.”
“Then I can learn it for myself. I will see her;” and her tone was decision itself. I continued my attempt to dissuade, but without success, and she would not rest until I had agreed to arrange a meeting at my house. One stipulation I insisted upon—that I should be present.