“Natural that she should preserve some souvenir of a man who once saved her life.”
“Sire, a fortnight ago she obtained Paul’s sanction to leave St. Petersburg for a few days. Why?”
“For prayer and meditation in the Convent of the Ascension.”
Baranoff smiled satirically.
“In returning she stopped at a wayside hamlet, named Gora, and stayed for the night at an inn called the Silver Birch.”
“You are telling me what I already know.”
“Do you know this, Sire, that Lord Courtenay was at this inn on that self-same night?”
No, the Czar did not know that, if one must judge by his startled look.
“Did they see each other?”
“Sire, in the dead of the night he was seen stealing from her bed-chamber.”