After a short interval of her thirsty and cruel anxiety, the page, who was in waiting outside, entered with a note for his master.
Sabran strove to recover his composure as he stretched his hand out and took the letter off the salver. It contained only two lines from his wife:
'Olga asks me to come to her. Do you wish me to do so?'
A convulsion passed over his face.
'Oh! most faithful of all friends!' he thought with a pang, touched to the quick by those simple words of a woman whose fidelity was to be repaid by shame.
'Where is the Countess?' he asked of the young servant, who answered that she was in the library.
'Say that I will be with her there in a few moments.'
The page withdrew.
Olga Brancka was mute; there was a great anger in her veiled eyes. Her last stroke had missed, through the loyalty of the woman whom she hated.
He took a step towards her.