Some of these must have watched my pursuit of him, and must have imagined me to be his enemy. As this thought thrust itself forward, I began to feel less despairing, but could still not quite determine whether his speedy arrival on the scene would be conducive to my salvation, or to his undoing, and my brain became so bewildered that I hardly knew whether to pray for his prompt arrival or for his continued absence. There had been a break in the stern mode of conducting the inquiry. The door was silently opened by the janitor, in response to a signal from without, and three persons entered, who evidently brought news of stirring import, though its nature was not permitted to reach my ears. There was a buzz of excited voices, and the prevailing feeling seemed to be one of consternation. Several people who had hitherto kept silent joined in the conversation, and some hurriedly left the apartment. Although I had made wonderful progress with the Russian language, it was still beyond my power to comprehend very rapidly spoken utterances, and even if the discussion had been carried on in a louder tone I might still have been unable to grasp its full import. But I could at least tell that the news received was provocative of grief in the breasts of some of this mysterious assemblage of people, while others were stirred to menacing anger.
How this anger might affect my own fate was impossible for me to tell. But at all events I had received a momentary respite, and the dread of instant death was removed from me. Even my hands were now released, and had I been able to do so I might have stood up unhindered. But I was sick and giddy, from the combined effects of the violence to which I had been subjected, and of the mental distress under which I was laboring, and could now do no more than gaze helplessly around me, and wonder why Sergius did not come to my rescue.
Presently the excitement abated again, and the cloaked figures resumed their places, the three latest comers approaching close to where I was sitting.
“Now, Brother Finis,” said the president, “look closely at this woman, who was caught dogging your footsteps, in company with a man whom we know to have been a government spy, and tell us if you have seen her before.”
My heart leaped to my mouth at these words. This must be Sergius, although the ample folds of his cloak, and his hood and domino, had prevented me from recognizing him.
Hastily stepping forward, he now obtained a full view of me for the first time. He did not recognize me for a moment, owing to my disfiguring wig. But when I looked appealingly at him, clasped my hands in an attitude of distress, and sobbed just the one word. “Sergius!” he started as if struck by lightning.
The next instant he had pushed both my bonnet and my wig from my forehead, disclosing my own dark curls, and as at last I succumbed again to the faintness which had oppressed me for so long, I heard, my husband’s voice exclaim:
“My God! This is my wife!”