"A Russian born--an exile, a zealot, a possible tool in the hands of those more dangerous than he."
"Mademoiselle. There are others----?"
"Listen, Monsieur. I must begin at the beginning or you will not understand, what my task has been, and what--God willing--you will help me to do."
"I?"
"You, Monsieur."
Rowland was silent, looking at her, sure now of a deeper import to her meaning.
"If there is anything I can do to help Russia, to help France here, you may count upon me," he said quietly.
He might have added to help Tanya Korasov, but something warned him that a hidden fire within her had burst into a flame, which burned out all lesser ones.
Her fine eyes regarded him steadily in a moment of intense appraisal, and then she went on.
"The origin of the Priesthood of Nemi, Monsieur," she said, "is lost in the mazes of antiquity. According to one story, the priesthood began with the worship of Diana, at Nemi, near Rome, and was instituted by Orestes, who fled to Italy. Within the sanctuary at Nemi there grew a certain tree of which no branch might be broken. Only a runaway slave was allowed to break off, if he could, one of its boughs----"