“Briefly, Apraxin,” Peter continued, “by whose order did you betray M. de Lambert into the hands of the imperial guard?”
For a moment Apraxin was silent, and then he spoke with more manhood than I had anticipated.
“Your Majesty,” he said, “I am a nephew by adoption of Madame Zotof, and was affianced in boyhood to her husband’s niece, Najine Zotof. She has lately departed from the house of her uncle, and fled to that of the Vicomte de Brousson, the secret envoy of France; encouraged in her disobedience, and aided by her lover, M. de Lambert. For that reason, and for no other, I did endeavor to seize him, and succeeded in delivering him into the hands of an officer of the guard charged by your Majesty to arrest him.”
The mine had exploded, and the czar flushed crimson, while his eyes flashed. He had evidently trusted to the discretion of his officer and had been betrayed. I stood discreetly silent, but I caught the eye of Mademoiselle Catherine and saw that she was keenly anxious.
“Upon my faith,” exclaimed the czar, with passion, “it is like your impertinence to charge me with being your accomplice. Officer, remove the prisoner.”
As Apraxin was led out, Peter turned upon me sharply.
“So, M. l’Ambassadeur,” he said, “mademoiselle is at your house?”
“I do not now deny the charge, your Majesty,” I said quietly.
His lip curled scornfully. “You would have me believe that she was not there before?” he exclaimed.
I returned his gaze quietly. “It is difficult to know what to believe about the matter, your Majesty,” I replied dryly.