“We shall leave Russia for a time,” the Duchess was saying as I entered.
“I think you are right to go under the circumstances,” agreed Helga. “But what has occurred to-night has not weakened my position by a thread. The key of everything is the possession of these papers which the Government dare not allow to fall into other hands than their own. I still possess them.”
“But even if you persist, you cannot use them, Helga,” cried the Duchess Stephanie. “These wretches alone would not let you live to do that. I declare I tremble all over when I think of that fearful time when we were in their power.”
“Why? They did us no harm. They just stopped us from crying out, took us over to the stable and locked us in with a guard until the mistake was discovered. As soon as that was plain, they released us and left the place. Surely it is no very awful thing to be locked up in a stable for an hour. It is not like a prison or a Siberian hell.”
“You forget what I told you, mademoiselle,” said Boreski; “that the men left us and released you only because we had caught three of their number and M. Denver threatened to have them shot. They would never leave you in peace—nor us, indeed, if we were to remain.”
“If you think that, by all means leave the country.”
There was a spice of contemptuousness in Helga’s reply, although spoken with apparent earnestness.
“What do you think, M. Denver?” asked Boreski.
“I think as you do, that that is the only safe course.”
“It will at any rate please M. Denver’s friends among the authorities,” said Helga, with a flash at me.