“She may carry her life in her hands, Mr. Bergwyn.”
“But I could still depend upon your influence?”
“To the uttermost shred. I give you my honour.”
I rose to go then. “I need not assure you that I shall treat in confidence what you have said, Colonel Petrosch.”
He shook his head. “It does not matter now, Mr. Bergwyn. I have told you nothing—I could tell you nothing, of course—that may not be openly repeated. It is too late for anything of that kind to signify now. The army is too strong to be shaken from its purpose by anything that could happen. You will see that yourself very soon. The die is cast.”
This indifference to publicity amazed me as much as anything he had said in the interview and confirmed the absorbingly gloomy impression which he had created.
I drove back to my house feverishly anxious now to hear how Nikolitch had fared with Gatrina. But he had not returned and I sat eating out my heart with impatience at his delay. He was so long that I began to fear he might have been arrested for having come to the city in defiance of his orders, and I sent Buller at length to the Princess’s house for news of him.
A line came back from him.
“She is away. I am waiting for her return.”
I scribbled a reply to this.