“Where is M. de Lambert?” she demanded.
I felt that it was time for me to interfere.
“M. de Lambert has been but lately liberated by his imperial Majesty’s commands,” I said, “and I have to inform you, madame, that your nephew, M. Apraxin, came here and made a murderous attack upon him.”
“And was it not provoked, M. l’Ambassadeur?” she exclaimed; “did you not entrap him for the sole purpose of inflaming the czar against him, and so blinding his Majesty to the true state of affairs?”
“You heap one accusation upon another, madame,” I replied gravely. “M. Apraxin betrayed M. de Lambert into the hands of the guard, and I only desired to obtain his liberty. Your kinsman’s repeated attacks upon him were unprovoked and unmerited.”
Madame’s temper was rising, and she looked at me with flashing eyes.
“You take high ground, M. l’Ambassadeur,” she said cuttingly; “you are injured, you are badly used, but you forget altogether M. de Lambert’s pursuit of my niece in the face of my opposition and of Zotof’s, and you forget your own encouragement of her unmaidenly disobedience. It was natural that Yury Apraxin should be deeply incensed against this foreigner, and I do not blame him.”
“You do not blame a man for striking another in the back, madame?” I repeated with feigned surprise. “I should have looked for more justice at your hands.”
She bit her lip. “You choose to misunderstand me,” she replied petulantly. “I am not responsible for the passionate anger of a boy, but I do insist that the provocation was extreme. M. de Lambert had no right to seek my niece against the wishes of her guardians.”
“And yet, madame,” I said suavely, “I remember the days when I, like M. de Lambert, believed that you favored his suit.”