He thanked me and put it on his hand, and then, as I was turning away, stopped me again.
“Your Excellency,” he said, “you yourself are constantly shadowed, not only by Prince Dolgoruky’s man Tikhon, but by Apraxin, who has returned within a few days and is watching Mademoiselle Zotof and you.”
Without being surprised, I was not entirely prepared for this information, and it was far from agreeable.
“Was I followed just now?” I asked.
“All the way to Mentchikof’s palace,” he answered quietly; “and if I mistake not, there is a fellow loitering now at the end of the lane.”
We both looked back, and it seemed to me that I saw a man draw back into the corner of the wall. I shrugged my shoulders.
“They will find it a weary task,” I remarked, and with a few more words of thanks I dismissed him and went on to my own door. Entering, I inquired for M. de Lambert, and found that he had just returned from his first walk abroad since his wound, and I went at once to his room.
He was reclining in a large chair by the fire, and his pallor startled me; yet it was more the contrast between his face and the dark coat he wore than the color of his complexion. But his wound and the enforced confinement had told upon him, and he looked thin and weary, although he greeted me with a smile and an expectant expression.
“A dull day, monsieur,” I said, “and dull news. Let me sit by your fire.”
“The heat is grateful after the frosty atmosphere without,” he replied, as I seated myself opposite.