"The Charter of your ancestress Catherine."
"Catherine, 'tis true, granted to the palatines of Czernova the title of princes, but conferred no independence upon them. The story of the Charter is a myth."
"Your Majesty may see upon the altar here the identical document itself, signed by the hand of the empress."
"That," replied Nicholas, scarcely deigning to turn his eyes in the direction indicated, "that document is a forgery, as Marshal Zabern can prove."
"I plainly see that a little bird has been whispering to him," murmured Zabern to himself.
A scornful repudiation trembled upon Barbara's lips, but it died away when she beheld Zabern's grave look.
"Marshal, is not that the original Charter of Catherine?"
There was something so wistful and pathetic in her expression—an expression which plainly said, "Let me know the worst,"—that Zabern felt he could no longer deceive her.
"It is a faithful transcript, so please your Highness."
Barbara understood the significant reply. Zabern, in describing to her the plot formed by Bora and Orloff for the destruction of the Charter, had represented the scheme as resulting in failure. She now perceived that from pity the marshal had kept the terrible truth from her, endeavoring to repair Czernova's loss by means of a forged document. Wrong of him, doubtless, but the fault lay more with those whose wickedness had compelled him to resort to such a policy.