"How can I let you do this?" she cried in an outburst of anguish. "I will resign my crown. We will go away together to some other land where happiness may be found. Say 'yes' to this. Oh, Paul, don't—don't fight. If you should fall—"
"No fear of that, since your throne depends upon the issue."
"My throne!" repeated Barbara bitterly. "What pleasure can it give me now? The Czar has learned that our Charter is no more. He claims Czernova as part of his empire. If I should continue to rule I must rule merely as his vassal. Consider the humiliations to which I shall be subjected. Is it worth while risking your life in order to preserve for me a gilded mockery of power?"
How could Paul smile at the prospect presented by her words? Yet he did, pleasantly and tenderly.
"Sweet princess!" he said, "for princess you are, and princess you shall remain, take courage." He turned her beautiful face upward to his own, and gazed into the depth of her dark eyes, on whose silken lashes the tear-drops glittered. "During my absence I have worked for the good of Czernova. I have splendid tidings for you. Fear no more the machinations of Russia. From this day forth you are firmly seated upon the throne."
The sudden and unaccountable joy that filled Barbara's heart at that moment almost effaced the thought of the coming duel.
"Oh, Paul, what—what do you mean?"
"That I have accomplished my mission. But ere explaining let me first dispose of the duke; otherwise when the great news which is now on its way reaches Slavowitz, he may seek to escape in the train of the Czar, which must not be, for Trevisa's death calls for atonement."
Though full of wonder, Barbara succeeded in repressing her curiosity, and said,—
"Paul, you do not wish me to be a witness of this duel? I mean," she added timidly, "if you think that—that—"