“There,—she’ll die without having confessed anything,” thought Orloff, as he stood by her.
“In riches and in happiness,” said she, coming to herself, “in humiliation and in prison, I repeat constantly the same thing—and you know it well. I am the daughter of your late empress,” proudly said she, rising. “Do you hear me, miserable, wretched slave, I am your born grand-duchess.…” A bold idea flashed through Orloff’s mind.… “Ah! what’s in a word?” thought he; “she won’t live long, and at one stroke I’ll please them both.”
He bent on one knee, grasped the frail pale hand of the captive, and ardently pressed it to his lips.
“Your Highness!” stammered he. “Elise! pardon, I swear—yes, I am guilty,—but those were the orders. I myself was arrested. Only now have I received my liberty.…”
The poor girl raised her big, astonished eyes to his face, covering her mouth with her handkerchief to stop the blood.
“I implore you, I promise you, we will be really solemnly married,” continued Orloff. “You shall be my wife—and then, your Highness—my darling, … my own Elise, rank, riches, faithfulness, life-long devotion.…”
“Out! away! monster!” screamed the captive, jumping up. “This bruised hand princes, kings sought—it’s not for you to touch it, branded traitor, inquisitor.”
“Well, she doesn’t choose her words,” thought to himself the Commandant Tchernishoff, who, standing outside the door, could easily hear the French abuses and the curses of the prisoner; “better take myself off. If the count knows all this has been heard, his little vanity will be pricked, and it is just possible he may take his revenge.” The commandant walked off.