"If you have pledged your word for my withdrawal, I must go—and alone," he added.
"You shall not go to please them," she cried passionately.
"Then I will go to please myself."
"Without me? Do you mean that—that we must part forever?"
The anguish of her voice went to Paul's heart. The stately princess that had confronted the Diet was gone, and in her place was a clinging, trembling maiden with eyes full of tears.
"Sweetest Barbara, doubt whatever else you will, but do not doubt my love. It behoves us to part at least for a time. I go, but you must remain. Remember, that, as a princess, you are not your own but your people's. If you desert Czernova you give to the duke the crown for which he is basely plotting. Do not let that traitor succeed. Do not hand over your loyal Poles to the tyranny of Bora. Abdication on your part will mean the final triumph of Russia."
"And that triumph is not far distant," replied Barbara bitterly. "We have received intelligence to-day from our ambassadors at Berlin and Vienna that Prussia and Austria have jointly agreed to withdraw from the responsibility of upholding the integrity of Czernova, leaving the onus of this political duty to Russia. We know what this means. In plain language Kaiser and King will permit the Czar to exercise a free hand in the principality. The long-threatened annexation is at hand."
"Then it is time for me to be going."
"In my hour of peril?"
"I go to save you from this peril, to deliver you from the ever-threatening shadow of the Czar. I have a scheme in mind,—a scheme so daring that it seems madness to attempt it; and yet better to dare and fail than not to dare at all. My plan, if it succeeds, will make Czernova so strong that it will no longer fear the arms of Russia. And then," added Paul hopefully, "and then it may be that in return for such service your ministry will regard me with more favorable eyes."