Galitsyn had turned also and was gazing at me with a strange face. No doubt his breast was filled with contending emotions. Had I not escaped his ruffians and defied him? But the face of Prince Voronin froze into an image of stone, and only the eyes blazed fire, while the stranger at his side, his wife—as I had divined—bustled forward and caught hold of Daria, remonstrating loudly.
“He saved your life, yes, my daughter,” replied the prince, sternly scornful, “and his own; but since he is my guest, I will not hang him at the gateway. But leave his side—I command you!”
The princess had already dragged her hand from mine and she drew back now, and stood silent, her eyes on the floor, while I addressed her father.
“M. le Prince,” I said, “in spite of many difficulties, I have escaped from those who would have carried me to Archangel, and I have journeyed southward for the sole purpose of seeing the Princess Daria. I understand, monsieur, your reluctance to give your consent to a marriage brought about by the Czarevna Sophia, and in circumstances so peculiar. Nor do I blame you for refusing to intrust your daughter to a stranger, but, M. le Prince, I have upon me papers that will establish my birth and my rank, not entirely unsuitable for your consideration, and although a foreigner, monsieur, and a stranger, I love the princess deeply, so deeply that I will force no claim upon her. She is free to choose; if she will recognise the marriage, I am her devoted husband and lover, but she—and she alone—must choose.”
Prince Galitsyn could forbear no longer, his proud face flushed deeply.
“It would be well, sir,” he said haughtily, “to prove that your birth is equal to that of the princess; as for the marriage——” He snapped his fingers.
I eyed him coldly. “M. le Prince,” I said courteously, “permit me to suggest that you ask her imperial highness, Sophia Alexeievna, to support your suit to the Princess Daria,” and as I said it, I heard a rebellious titter, and saw Vassalissa, little rogue that she was, in the background.
Galitsyn turned from red to white, and his hand clenched on his sword, but he had no time to answer, for Voronin spoke.
“I have heard you, sir,” he said to me, “with amazement; yonder is the door; two minutes longer and my stewards will see that you find it or——”
“Remember the bread and salt, my uncle,” said Vassalissa softly, plucking at his sleeve.