“Oh, yes, your excellency, I can do that!” he exclaimed in a relieved tone.
It was my turn to be surprised now, but I followed up my advantage at once.
“Take me to her, then!” I cried harshly.
“Follow me, master,” he said quietly, and to my surprise turned back into the main part of the house.
The thought that he might be trying to entrap me made me draw and cock my pistol as I followed close at his heels. He conducted me past the boyar’s rooms to a dark, narrow stone stair, leading down, as I concluded, to the cellars. I did not like the appearance of it, but reflected that my archenemy was stiff and stark, and this man seemed nothing more than an ignorant servant. He did not stop to see if I followed, and was already half-way down the steps when I began the descent, feeling my way cautiously, and keeping my weapon ready as I went. Having reached the lower floor, he led me through a tortuous passage in the dark and damp cellars, pausing at last before a heavy door.
“She is here,” he said, pointing at it with his finger.
“Open it, you knave!” I said sharply.
“Where is the key?” he retorted sullenly.
For the moment I could almost have laughed in the bitterness of my chagrin at my own folly, and then thinking of the boyar’s keys, I drew out the bunch and began to fumble with them.
“That is the key,” he said, indicating a large one; and as I loosened it from the others he put it in the lock, and in a moment the heavy door stood open, revealing a small room dimly lighted by the lantern swinging from a chain in the center of the ceiling.