“It is you who cause it,” she retorted.
“I can see no other way out of it than that I have suggested;” and as she made no reply, we walked round and round the fountain in silence.
The silence was broken by the sound of a galloping horse, and presently a man, top-booted and travel-stained, hurried from the house towards us.
“From M. Boreski, mademoiselle,” he said in Russian, handing her a letter.
She tore it open, and a newspaper cutting dropped from it, which I picked up and held out to her.
She read the letter quickly, started, paled slightly, and then glanced at me, her expression a mixture of excitement and amusement.
“Will you read what you have there? It is from a paper just issued.”
I read it, and could not refrain from a smile on my part. It was very short and ran as follows:—
“Slight indisposition of the Emperor.—We regret to learn at the moment of going to press that His Majesty is suffering from a slight chill, and, acting under medical advice, will remain in his room to-day. We have the highest authority for saying that the indisposition is very slight indeed, and at most will keep him indoors for a couple of days. This announcement is necessary to allay any anxiety on the part of the public owing to his inability to review the troops in person to-day, as had been arranged. There is no doubt, however, that he will entirely have recovered by the time of the Crown Prince of Sweden’s visit three days hence.”
Helga was waiting for my eyes as I finished, and when she saw my smile, answered with a lift of the brows.