Drexel at first tried to give a mere bald outline, but she impatiently demanded details of all that had happened since she had saved the day by walking forth to face the captain and the prince. So he told everything; how he had found Borodin’s whereabouts; how he had been trapped by the prince, and almost by the captain; of his flight with the countess and their pursuit; of his escape disguised as a peasant. And if since yesterday he had passed through dangers, the look with which she regarded him was payment a thousandfold.
“Forgive me for what I said in this room a week ago,” she besought him.
“Forgive you?” he cried. “Why, it was I——”
“No, no!” she interrupted. “There is a side to you I then no more than glimpsed. I now see that it is really the larger side—perhaps it is really the whole man. Since I then said unjust things, I now want to say that you are generous, strong, resourceful, brave, resolute, true.”
Her look might mean no more than warm and grateful comradeship—and yet, his heart leaped daringly. “I only hope that what you say is the truth,” he stammered joyously.
“I do not know how much of a democrat you are—yet,” she continued; “but you are the type of man we need to help set Russia free. And that makes me regret that we must lose you.”
“Lose me!”
“Yes. For you must now leave us.”
“Why?”
“Prince Berloff has discovered that you are aiding us. He is after you—and not only for that, but plainly for some private reason. The only safe plan for you is to join your uncle’s family; he dare not touch you then. Never leave them.”