"You must have been indiscreet. How could they have found it out?"
"I was bête enough to write an article in the Russki Mir—the mildest of articles. And then some of the Nihilist agents thought I was in their interests and wanted to see me, and the police observed them, and I was at once classed as a Nihilist myself, and there was a perquisition in my house. They found some notes and a few manuscripts of mine, quite enough to suit their purpose, and so the game was up."
"But they did not arrest you?"
"No. As luck would have it, I was in Berlin at the time, on leave from my regiment, for I was never suspected before in the least. And the Nihilists, who, to tell the truth, are well organised and take good care of their brethren, succeeded in passing word to me not to come back. A few days afterwards the Russian Embassy were hunting for me in Berlin. But I had got away. Sentence was passed in contempt, and I read the news in the papers on my way to Paris. There is the whole history."
"Have you any money?" inquired Margaret after a pause.
"Mon Dieu! I have still a hundred napoleons. After that the deluge."
"By that time we shall be ready for the deluge," said Margaret cheerfully. "I have many friends, and something may yet be done. Meanwhile do not distress yourself about me; you know I have something of my own."
"How can I thank you for your kindness? You ought to hate me, and instead you console!"
"My dear friend, if I did not like you for your own sake, I would help you because you are poor Alexis's brother." There was no emotion in her voice at the mention of her dead husband, only a certain reverence. She had honoured him more than she had loved him.
"Princesse, quand même," said Nicholas in a low voice, as he raised her fingers to his lips.