“One moment of calmness, I implore you,” at last said Orloff. “Answer me one word, only one—and I promise you, on my word of honour, that you shall be set free immediately.
“What new invention is that, monster? Speak, traitor,” said the Princess, recovering some composure, as shudderingly she drew the blue mantilla, so well known to the count, closer around her.
“You have been questioned so long, and with such persistency,” began Orloff, trying to give his voice a tender and convincing tone, “tell me now all—we are alone; God only can see and hear us.”
“Peter created Russia,
Ekaterina gave her a soul!”
“Gran Dio!” said the unfortunate girl, “he invokes the name of God,” added she, raising her eyes to the image of the Saviour which hung on the wall over the head of her bed; “he! Very likely you have arranged this slow torture, this torment! and yet you boasted that torture was abolished here. The empress, I am sure, knows nothing of all this. In this matter she has been deceived, as in everything else.”
“Be calm, be calm.… Tell me, who are you?” continued Orloff; “hide nothing. I’ll implore the empress; she will be merciful to you and to me.…”
“Diavolo! he asks, ‘Who am I!’” she stammered, half stifled by a new fit of anger. “But cannot you see I have done with the world? I am dying; then to what end all this?” She again began to cough most awfully, and leaning her head against the wall, was silent.