‘The interview can end.’
‘Have you no other instructions?’ asked Danevitch significantly.
The Prince understood. A pang of emotion caused his face to twitch, and he turned away. But in a few moments he was the cold, passionless man once more.
‘I have no other instructions,’ answered the Prince with equal significance.
‘And the letter?’
‘I will keep it.’
Danevitch bowed and withdrew.
The following morning, early, a closed carriage, drawn by four superb horses, left the Foreign Offices. The occupants of the carriage were Prince Ignatof and the beautiful Catarina. She was elegantly attired, and looked charming; but there was an expression of some anxiety on her face, and when she gave certain instructions to her maid, who was to sit with the driver, there was a tremulousness in her tone which was not natural to her.
The carriage was driven to one of the Prince’s country estates on the great Moscow road. It was an old-fashioned mansion in the midst of pine-woods, and the extensive pine-woods round about swarmed with game, fur and feathered. The Prince often entertained large shooting-parties there, but on this occasion he had no guests. The servants in charge had been apprised of his coming, and had the mansion in readiness.
Two nights later a strange thing happened. The Prince and Catarina were together in their chamber, when a shrill scream resounded through the house. It was a woman’s scream. A few minutes afterwards the Prince flung open the door, and rang his bell for assistance. He was pale and agitated. When the servants rushed up, he said, ‘Your mistress has been taken suddenly ill. Attend to her,’ and at the same time he ordered a man-servant to ride with all speed for a doctor from the neighbouring village, six miles away.