The Baroness shook her head.
“Have you the courage,” continued the other, “to face the Czar’s anger when he awakes and finds us gone?”
“I must try to repair the wrong I have done. I remain to act as conciliator between you and the Czar.”
The Empress shook her head, kissed Pauline and, turning away, was guided across the plank by Ouvaroff and Wilfrid. She seated herself beside the latter in the bow of the boat, while the Prince took his place in the stern and busied himself with the tiller. The oars dipped, and the next moment the boat was shooting forward into deep water.
As Marie silently watched the castle fade in the distance and thought of the happy time spent there, her eyes suffused with tears.
Wilfrid, too, was silent. He was glad of the presence of Prince Ouvaroff and the four Finlanders; there could be no love-making so long as they were by. A beautiful woman is a beautiful peril and she becomes doubly perilous when in distress. Wilfrid, in spite of the claims of honour, felt that he durst not trust himself alone with her, lest passion should usurp the place of reason.
“Wilfrid,” said the Czarina softly. “How is this to end?”
“Your Majesty——” he began.
“Majesty!” she repeated reproachfully. “It was Marie once.”
“A treasonable word, for which I humbly ask your pardon.”