Yet what to do I could not see, plague and rack my wits as I would, as I sat alternating between moods of consternation, rage, and searching reflection.
In the afternoon I had a horse saddled and rode out of the town for a gallop in the country, in the hope that some solution of the problem would suggest itself; and the ride cooled and sobered me.
Two things were imperative. We must find the leakage and blind the traitor as to our real intentions. Our future safety rested on that being done without delay; and for this purpose I must see Zoiloff and consult with him. As soon as we discovered the Judas among us we could take measures to deal with him. If possible, that should be done by cunning; but, failing that, averse as I was to bloodshed and violence, force must be used. But an idea occurred to me by which he could be effectively hoodwinked, and I stored it by for use should the occasion come.
As to the Countess Bokara, there were two courses. One was for me to appear to play into her hands and so gain time for our own plans to ripen—a line of action vastly repulsive to me, with all its necessary paraphernalia of deceit and lies; the other, to kidnap her and put her into safe keeping until the crisis should be passed. I knew that I could lure her to my house, and that then the necessary measures could be taken; but the cowardice of the plan made me entertain it only with disgust.
In the case of a man I would not have hesitated for a moment; indeed I would never have let him leave the house that day. But with a woman I could scarcely bear the thought of it, although this woman was vastly more dangerous than many men.
I sought keenly for some other scheme, and for a moment entertained the idea of going to the Prince himself, telling him all frankly, and begging his aid to deal with her. But I abandoned it. I remembered he had said he would stand by the throne if he could make sure of efficient help, and I calculated that his vacillation would cause him to turn now and claim the help of our party in his defence. A worse than useless effort, as I knew, owing to the impossibility of rallying to his cause the men who had been turned from him by his weakness. Not only could we do no good for him, but we should imperil the great patriotic rising for no purpose.
I was therefore driven back upon the distasteful course of duping the woman who had thus threatened us.
“Would to heaven she were a man!” And each time the thought broke from me in involuntary utterance, I pictured how easy it would then be to act.
As I was riding back, moody and thoughtful, I met the carriage of the Princess. She caught sight of me when I was still at a distance, and her lovely face was wreathed with a radiant smile as she checked her horses and greeted me. Mademoiselle Broumoff was by her side, and her keen, sharp eyes were quick to read trouble in my face.
“You look very thoughtful, Count,” said the Princess, “as if heavy military affairs were weighing upon you.”