CHAPTER XI.
“The grip of death.”
I verily believe that for the space of half an hour I was beside myself. But so far from being violent under my emotions, I was stunned by them, and rendered temporarily incapable of connected thought. Prince Michaelow was, I think, unable to endure the look of anguish which my face must have borne; for, after whispering a few words to his wife, he quitted the room, wearing an expression which even my dulled senses were able to construe into a conviction of the hopelessness of expecting to see Sergius again.
The Princess Nina sat down beside me, clasped my hands in hers, and comforted me more by her sympathetic attitude than words could have done. Presently my thoughts were able to collect themselves again, and I began to question Nina eagerly.
“How long has Sergius known that he would have to go back to Russia?”
“Only a few minutes before he left.”
“Why did he not bid me good-by first?”
“He had not time. The summons was urgent. Besides, he loves you so dearly that he could not have borne to witness your distress at his departure.”
“If he loved me half so dearly as you say, he would not have forsaken me at anybody’s call.”
“But he was compelled to go! It was his sacred duty to do so.”
“Then he ought to have taken me with him. If he is in danger, who so fit to bear him company as his wife? And to whom can he owe a more sacred duty than to me? Have I not been told more than once that all his near relatives are dead? Then who is there left to call him from me? Ah! now I have it! It is the woman whom I saw recognize him at Hyde Park Corner, and whom he tried to avoid! Who is she?”