Tchigorsky nodded approval. He was deftly rolling a cigarette between his long fingers.
"Ralph is right," he said. "We have only to fire the mine now. By the way, Ralph, you were clever to get that key."
"Easy enough," Ralph croaked. "I knew the woman would be uneasy about her papers, so I gave her a touch of the cordial on her lips and brought her to her senses. A certain messenger who shall be nameless was sent off with the key. The messenger was detained, is still detained according to arrangements, and her pocket was picked. Elphick dropped back and gave me the key, which I passed on to you."
Geoffrey followed in some bewilderment. The messenger business was all strange to him.
"Did you know that diary existed?" he asked.
"Of course I did," Ralph growled. "In a measure, I might say that I had seen it. Many a time at night have I lain in a flower-bed under that woman's window and heard her reading from the diary or writing in it. That is why I asked no questions when you came in. I knew you had been successful. And now, Princess Zara, it is my turn."
Ralph's voice dropped to a whisper, an intense, burning whisper of hate and vengeance. He rose and paced the room like a caged bird.
"What will be her fate?" asked Geoffrey.
"Burn her, slay her, hang her," Ralph cried. "No death is too painful, too loathsome for a creature like that. I could forgive her fanatical cruelty; I could forgive the way she fought for her creed. But when it comes to those allied by ties——"
The speaker paused and sat down.