But with a cheerful face she advanced to receive him; she seemed not to remark that a dark cloud lay upon his brow, and that his features bore an almost threatening expression.
“He is a barbarian,” thought she, “and barbarians must be treated differently from other men. I must flatter this lion, in order to fetter him!”
“It is a serious matter that brings me to you, signora,” said Alexis, gloomily.
“A serious matter?” she cheerfully asked. “Ah, then I pity you, count. It is difficult to speak with me of serious matters!”
“You rather do them!” said Alexis, carelessly throwing himself upon a divan. “You would not play with such serious things as, for instance, a dagger, and therefore you hurl it from you, altogether indifferent whether you thereby quite accidentally pierce the heart of another.”
“I do not understand you, count,” said Corilla, without embarrassment, but at the same time she looked at him with such a charming and enticing expression, that Alexis involuntarily smiled.
“I will make myself intelligible to you,” said he, in a milder tone. “You must understand, that I know you, Corilla. That assassin who followed the Princess Tartaroff at the festival of Cardinal Bernis, was employed by you, Signora Maddalena Morelli Fernandez, called Corilla!”
“And what if it were true, Signor Alexis Orloff, called the handsome Northern Hercules?” asked she, roguishly imitating his grave seriousness. “If it were really true, what further?”
Alexis looked in her face with an expression of astonishment. “You are wonderfully bold!” said he.
“None but slaves are without courage!” responded she. “Freedom is the mother of boldness!”