But Wilfrid’s desire to try conclusions with the Czar was immediately lost in a new interest as he viewed that monarch’s manner towards Pauline.
As she entered, her hand resting lightly upon his arm, he was bending over her with eyes that plainly spoke of love, though her reserved air showed that she did not return the feeling.
Wilfrid’s gorge rose. Not content with making love to Marie, this imperial libertine sought to lure Pauline also to his arms! Was this the business of an emperor? Fortunately he seemed as little likely to succeed in the one case as the other.
On seeing the two entering, Wilfrid thought that the Czar’s visit was over, and that Pauline was conducting him through this apartment as being the shortest way out of the castle. He was wrong. The two had come to this apartment for a private talk, for the Czar, having led Pauline to an ottoman, took his place beside her.
This was a development which Wilfrid had not anticipated. To continue longer in concealment would be to play the spy, yet remain there he must, on Marie’s account, since there was no way of quitting the alcove except by revealing himself.
At first, with an odd sense of preserving his honour, Wilfrid tried not to listen, endeavouring to fix his attention on other matters. But the attempt was a failure; against his wish he was attracted by the words of the speakers, and as the dialogue grew, so, too, did his interest.
“You were praying in the oratory,” said Alexander to Pauline. “Did my name mingle with your prayers?”
“Yes, Sire,” answered Pauline gravely. “I prayed for you more earnestly than ever I prayed before.”
The melancholy, seldom absent from the Czar’s face since his father’s death, brightened into a smile.
“And what was the petition on my behalf?”