“He seems intimate with the Government, as I told you,” he replied.
Several minutes passed. The two worked swiftly, in silence. Finally Drexel straightened up with a low cry of triumph.
“You have it?” asked the countess.
“Yes—at last!”
“Where is he?”
“In the Fortress of Saints Peter and Paul! In St. Petersburg!”
He swiftly put back the files. Perhaps he had already remained too long.
“Countess,” he whispered, “I am going to leave the house immediately.”
“I was just going to suggest it,” she returned. “It would be dangerous for you here. The prince has a violent temper; if he found out he might stop at nothing. And I shall go with you.”
“Go with me?”