Wilfrid stared hard at the speaker, upon whose lips there now appeared a sinister smile. Then, vivid as fire upon a dark night, the full meaning of the proposal flashed upon him. He was deliberately to set to work to corrupt a woman’s innocence! The lady in question had given some offence to the powerful diplomatist, who chose this diabolical method of revenge. The fall from purity, the shame that is worse than death, would destroy whatever influence she possessed in Court circles, and probably at the same time remove a political obstacle from Baranoff’s path.
Now whatever sins might be imputed to Wilfrid, he had not yet played the rake. In an age when gallantry was considered one of the marks of a gentleman, and even the clergy were not conspicuous for purity of morals, he had kept his name stainless, thanks to the influence of a good mother, who had bidden him see in every woman a saint.
His anger, then, can be imagined. He blamed himself for holding converse with so cold-blooded a barbarian.
“I deserve this insult,” he muttered. “What else could I expect? Can one meddle with pitch and not be defiled?”
“You must not talk of marriage,” resumed Baranoff. “What I require is that the lady shall be induced to compromise herself.”
“So that all the world shall hear of her fall?” said Wilfrid, smiling dangerously.
“Why, truth to tell, ’twill not avail me much if the amour remain secret.”
The candour with which Baranoff spoke showed that he was quite convinced that Wilfrid had consented to his scheme.
“But you have said,” commented Wilfrid, “that the affair, if discovered, may bring upon her the penalty of death.”
“So it may, if it be discovered while she is on Russian ground. But I will so arrange matters that both you and she shall have every facility for escape. Once over the frontier you are safe. As I have said, the danger is great. But so, too, is the reward. Think! Three hundred thousand roubles!”