“The peasants will make a demonstration. The rest we must leave to—well, to the course of fortune. I have no doubt that our astute friend Karl Steinmetz will manage to hold them in check. But whatever the end of the demonstration, the outcome will be the impossibility of a longer residence in this country for the Prince Pavlo Alexis. A regiment of soldiers could hardly make it possible.”
“I do not understand,” said Etta, “what you describe as a demonstration—is it a rising?”
De Chauxville nodded, with a grin.
“In force, to take what they want by force?” asked the princess.
De Chauxville spread out his hands in his graceful Gallic way.
“That depends.”
“And what do you wish me to do?” asked Etta, with the same concentrated quiet.
“In the first place, to believe that no harm will come to you, either directly or indirectly. They would not dare to touch the prince; they will content themselves with breaking a few windows.”
“What do you want me to do?” repeated Etta.
De Chauxville paused.