“I cannot be mistaken,” she exclaimed; “it is Najine!”
CHAPTER XXI.
NAJINE.
Madame de Brousson and I stood looking at each other in silence. What miracle was this? In another moment there were steps upon the stair, and Najine rushed into the room followed by her woman, both of them cloaked and travel-stained. Mademoiselle ran up to me, and, throwing back her hood, showed a pale face and eyes shining with excitement.
“Oh, tell me that it is not true!” she cried incoherently; “tell me that I am deceived, that Guillaume is free!”
I looked at her in astonishment; by what witchcraft had she learned of her lover’s imprisonment? Reading in my face and in my hesitation a confirmation of her worst fears, she stamped her foot upon the floor with an outburst of anger that sent the blood to her cheeks.
“How could you permit it? You, an ambassador! How dare they molest him? He has done no wrong,” she cried.
“Bear with me, mademoiselle,” I replied soothingly; “it was scarcely my fault, and you must remember that in the eyes of the czar he has done grave wrong.”
She looked at me amazed, not at first understanding, and I smiled.
“M. de Lambert loves you, mademoiselle,” I explained quietly, “and that is a sufficient sin in his Majesty’s eyes.”
She flushed, and her glance kindled. “Then he must imprison me also,” she exclaimed, “for I, too, am in error. Why should I not be likewise arrested? I love M. de Lambert.”