"Go on," said Ritter, "You drew away yourself, child. What do you mean? What could you do with a hand like that, a rose leaf? Ha!" He laughed and clasped it with his own to give her courage: "Go on."
"You are not Russian," said the girl, "so you can't understand. When one is not Russian—to be an anarchist, to kill—that is terrible, unpardonable! But with us—My father is Mezkarpin," she whispered, "You have heard of him—yes? The great General, the friend of the Tsar! And I am the Countess Kaya, his—his daughter!"
Her voice broke, and she was silent for a moment, leaning against the pillow. Then she went on:
"There is a society," she whispered, "in St. Petersburg. It is called 'The Black Cross'; and whosoever is a member of that order must obey the will of the order; and when they pass judgment, the sentence must be fulfilled. They are just and fair. When a man, an official, has sinned only once, they pass him by; but when he has committed crime after crime, they take up his case and deliberate together, and he is judged and condemned. Sometimes it is the sentence of death, and then—" she hesitated, "and then we draw lots. The lot fell to—me."
She shut her eyes, and as the Kapellmeister watched her face, he saw that it was convulsed in agony, and the boyish look was gone.
"He was warned," she whispered, "three times he was warned, according to rule, and I—I killed him." The lines deepened in her face, and she half rose, leaning on her elbow, staring straight ahead of her as though at a vision, her lips moving:
"In the name of the Black Cross I do now pledge myself an instrument in the service of Justice and Retribution. On whomsoever the choice of Fate shall fall, I vow the sentence of death shall be fulfilled, by mine own hands if needs be, without weakness, or hesitation, or mercy; and if by any untoward chance this hand should fall, I swear—I swear, before the third night shall have passed, to die instead—to die—instead."
She struggled up on the bed, kneeling.
"I killed him!" she cried in a whisper, "I killed him! I see him lying on the floor there—on his face! There—there! Look! With his arms outstretched—and the blood in a pool!"
She was leaning forward over the edge of the bed, staring with her eyes dilated, pointing into the shadows and shuddering: