It was significant that the marshal's name, and not that of Bora, should be the first to rise to her lips.
"A priest? True. Such is my misfortune, since once a priest always a priest. My love for you—"
"Let there be an end of this language," said Barbara with dignity. "It is treason."
"Nay, princess, listen. I have loved you in secret from the day when I set eyes on you in the Dalmatian convent. I have elevated you to a throne partly for the purpose of making you mine, that you might taste the luxury of power, and, tasting, be ready to sacrifice anything, even your own person, rather than lose that power. Aware of my love, you are forming a plan to escape me. If you should be deposed, who succeeds? The Duke of Bora as next of kin. Therefore you think by becoming his wife to retain your rank as princess, and thus to foil my hopes. That motive, rather than a desire to conciliate the Muscovite faction, urges you to this match."
His statement was perhaps correct, for Barbara did not offer any denial to it.
"But be mindful of this: the duke cares less for you than for your crown. At heart he dislikes you, for he finds his solemn dulness an ill match for your bright wit. I have but to whisper to him that your title is invalid, and he will be the first to demand your deposition. It will not be difficult to prove that you are an impostor. The physicians and nurses who attended the infant days of Princess Natalie are still living. The simple baring of your right shoulder would prove that, whoever you may be, you are not that princess. Your assertion that nevertheless you are her elder and half-sister would be laughed to scorn. Who will believe your word, unsupported by evidence, that the late Prince Thaddeus had contracted an early and secret marriage? The whole affair would be regarded as a plot on the part of Cardinal Ravenna formed to advance the interests of his Church. Barbara Lilieska, I acknowledge you to be the lawful Princess of Czernova, but whenever it shall please me I can compel you to step down from your throne."
Barbara quivered with indignation. She, a princess with the blood of Polish kings in her veins, and at whose word twenty thousand swords would flash from their scabbards, to be threatened by an Italian ecclesiastic! She turned her head towards the armed sentinels slowly pacing the stately terrace of the palace.
"One moment, princess, ere ordering my arrest. I do not venture upon this avowal without safeguarding myself. Listen! There lives at the present moment upon the other side of the frontier—in what town no matter—an individual devoted to my interests. To him I have entrusted the keeping of three sealed packets. So soon as he shall learn of my arrest he will thus act. One packet he will despatch to the Russian Foreign Minister; the second to the Duke of Bora; and with the third he will hasten to the office of the 'Kolokol' newspaper, whose pro-Russian editor, Lipski, will be but too delighted to print the contents of that packet; its publication will cause a stir in Czernova. There are your guards. Call them. Arrest me. Behead me on the spot if you will. But be sure of this: your own downfall will follow within seven days."
Barbara did not call her guards. She said nothing, did nothing.
"Princess, forgive me for using the language of threats; it is with reluctance that I adopt such a course. But—you recognize my power, and you know my love. Your answer?"