“In that matter I can relieve your mind, mademoiselle,” I exclaimed hastily. “Dr. von Gaden has the friendliest regard for you, and I have reason to know that he will consider it a privilege to shelter you in this hour of need.”
Zénaïde looked at me searchingly. “You are very reassuring, M. de Brousson,” she said quietly, “and I see that there is some reason behind all this that causes your confidence; but you must forgive my hesitation. I am indeed in sore straits; but I know my uncle to be a relentless man, and I would not willingly bring down his wrath upon this Jewish physician, from whom I have received nothing but good offices. The Czar Peter will soon be crowned, and the Naryshkins once in power, it will be ruin to have tried to help me against one of that family.”
“Mademoiselle,” I said gently, “I have the greatest respect for your scruples; but, believe me, they are without serious foundation. If the Naryshkins could hold the balance of power, there would have been no pravezh. And, in any case, will you risk nothing for your liberty?”
She looked up, and I saw the tears shining in her blue eyes.
“M. le Vicomte,” she exclaimed passionately, “I would risk life itself, but—I do not wish to peril yours!”
I took her hand and pressed it to my lips. Mademoiselle Eudoxie was crying with much noise by the table.
“Mademoiselle Ramodanofsky,” I said firmly, “I would not leave you in this extremity; and if I remain here—” I looked at her and paused.
“Mademoiselle,” Zénaïde said, with a break in her voice, “are our cloaks here? We must go!”
Mademoiselle Eudoxie ceased sobbing and immediately produced the cloaks. I helped her to muffle Zénaïde and herself, and then, without any light, we went out, and fastening the door of the room on the outside, took the key with us, to delay as long as possible the discovery of their flight; then went groping our way down the narrow steps, starting at every creak of the stairs, like the conspirators that we were.