“And I have already written to the Michaelows,” said Sergius. “Of course, neither their name nor ours appeared in the letter. But they will receive it indirectly, and they will understand that we are together. This will allay their anxiety about you, and all the particulars of our adventures can be related when we see them.”
“I wonder if such an event will really come to pass?”
“To be sure it will. I can’t have you always imagining the worst. You must look at the bright side of things.”
“Do you know what I would do if I had the power?”
“Something wonderful, no doubt.”
“I would give you a drug, if such were obtainable, that would make you oblivious of everything but my presence and my wishes. Then I would take you far away from Russia, and would keep you there until there was no longer any danger of your being recalled.”
“Ah! Dora, I’m afraid I shall never make a patriot of you.—But, whatever can be the matter! Do you hear the commotion?”
“Sergius! for Heaven’s sake, fly! Some one has betrayed you! Those are government men who are rushing upstairs! Oh, what shall we do? How can you escape?”
But my husband appeared much more astonished than frightened, and hardly seemed to notice what I was saying, for all his attention was apparently concentrated upon the hurrying footsteps without.
In another moment our room door was flung open without ceremony, and half a dozen people entered, among them being Madame Ivanovitch.