“And who are you, my dear young lady!”
“I—I am no one. I am only a paid agent.”
“Ah!”
They walked on in silence a few paces. The bells of St. Isaac’s Church suddenly burst out into a wild carillon, as is their way, effectually preventing further conversation for a few moments.
“Will you go?” asked the girl, when the sound had broken off as suddenly as it had commenced.
“Probably. I am curious and not nervous—except of damp sheets. My anonymous friend does not expect me to stay all night, I presume. Did he—or is it a she, my fatal beauty?—did it not name an hour?”
“Between now and seven o’clock.”
“Thank you.”
“God be with you!” said the girl, suddenly wheeling round and walking away.
Without looking after her Steinmetz walked on, gradually increasing his pace. In a few minutes he reached the large house standing within iron gates at the upper end of the English quay, the house of Prince Pavlo Howard Alexis.