“In view of the peril attendant upon the enterprise—for those who slew a Czar may not hesitate to slay the man who publishes their crime—the Empress has thought of a plan that can be carried out with secrecy, and yet with effect. What you did once, the Empress bids you do again.”
The Duchess proceeded to make clear her meaning by words spoken in a subdued key. The communication, whatever its nature, caused Wilfrid’s eyes to brighten and his lips to take a smile as of coming triumph. He accepted the office, not so much because justice required it or the Empress wished it, as because he saw that success would give pleasure to the Duchess.
“You understand, now,” continued she, “why the Empress has summoned you to this death-chamber. It is needful that you should see it with your own eyes, and to-morrow would have been too late.”
“Not a feature of it has escaped me,” said Wilfrid. And, indeed, he was confident that if he should live for a century the aspect of the little bedroom would never fade from his mind.
“Besides the ministers,” she continued, “there are others to be made a mark for public hatred.”
“Among them being——?”
“Pauline de Vaucluse.”
Wilfrid turned upon her a look of wonder.
“The Baroness was not with the assassins.”
“In spirit she was. She was the very soul of the plot. The conspirators, aiming as they thought for a better Government, were in reality dupes, ministering to her selfish and wicked ends.”