*****
As Olga sat in the gathering gloom her thoughts were occupied largely by this surprising development. If the other woman's story were true, then her relations with Fenton might easily be understood. The princess was anxious to believe it, but doubts persisted, doubts which originated in jealous consciousness of the undoubted charms of the dancer. By this time Olga frankly admitted to herself that she had been, and still was, jealous. Her jealousy was a revelation to her.
The door opened and with firm, heavy step a man entered the room. Olga turned and saw that her visitor was Miridoff himself. His presence explained much that she had hitherto been unable to fathom.
There was an unmistakable change in the demeanour of the Grand Duke. He carried himself with the conscious air of a conqueror. He emanated triumph. He came, quite apparently, to dictate terms; but it was in tones of courtesy that he first addressed her.
"Your highness," he said, bringing his heels together with a stiff military bow, "I trust that I do not intrude. There is a matter which I must discuss with you immediately, however, and I must beg your attention for a few minutes."
Beneath the man's outward show of courtesy and his arrogant air, there was something sinister and threatening. Miridoff believed in pushing any advantage mercilessly. Against an unarmed adversary he would not hesitate to use his sword. Success bred in him no magnanimity for his opponent, but rather increased his presumption. Olga dimly realised something of the mental attitude of her adversary, and for the first time the real danger of her position appealed to her certainly and clearly. She faced him, however, with no evidence of fear.
"Am I indebted to your grace for the way in which I have been treated, for my detention as a prisoner in this house?" she demanded.
"No," answered Miridoff. "The motive for this was purely political. There is no reason why I should not explain it to you, though I did not come to discuss the ethics of your position here. By the time you are free to return to Serajoz certain events will have happened which will make it necessary for you to subscribe to the explanation of your disappearance now generally accepted—that you were carried off by a wandering tribe of mountain gipsies. No harm can come, therefore, of perfect candour at the present moment."
With an air of complete assurance, Miridoff drew a chair up close and sat down.
"I can see that your abduction was a mistake," he went on. "At least, it has been found unnecessary from a purely political standpoint. The advantage we thought to gain by getting you into our power was, of course, to hold you as a hostage against the continued activity of your august father. Two days ago, when all Serajoz was clamouring for war on Austria, our only hope seemed to be to force the prince to abandon the allied cause. Since then, however, the militant wing of our party has prevailed, and a plan has been put into operation that cannot fail"—he paused and regarded her with an air of intense satisfaction—"to bring Ironia into the war against Russia by this time to-morrow! The active opposition of your royal father is no longer to be feared. I have a reason for explaining this which you will perhaps divine later."