“Madame brought it to mademoiselle as a present from the czar,” he said significantly.
I looked at it again and smiled. “And mademoiselle brought it to you,” I remarked. “A dangerous thing to possess, monsieur.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “As safe for me as for her,” he said.
“Perilous for both,” I replied. “Let me borrow it for a while,” I added, after a moment, a sudden thought having suggested a new course of action.
“Keep it,” he said indifferently. “Mademoiselle was anxious to be rid of it, and I promised to lose it for her in the river.”
“It would have been wiser to have kept the promise, monsieur,” I remarked. “The czar’s ring is an evil ornament for a foreigner, and evil indeed for you; so I will even take it into my own custody for the time.”
“I care not,” he rejoined indifferently; “do with it as you will. I am determined only to rescue mademoiselle, if I have to carry her off by force.”
“Is she willing to submit to your guidance?” I asked quietly. “As a rule, the Russian maiden is too strictly trained to contemplate a stolen marriage, especially under such peculiar conditions.”
“That is the trouble,” he replied gloomily; “she is full of doubts and hesitations. She fears for me and for herself. There are a hundred obstacles, and yet is she a brave woman and a true.”
“I doubt it not, monsieur,” I replied gravely, “but you would marry her at the risk of your life. You remember the scene at Mentchikof’s? That was caused by a trivial incident. The czar has violent moods, and it would rouse him to fury to be thwarted in this matter. We are treading on dangerous ground, and it behooves us to be careful.”