“Here?” Eirene shuddered. “I detest every stone of the place. No, monsieur, I must be in a town. My health, my nerves, have suffered cruelly from the miseries of the past month, and from this crowning trial. I need medical care, female attendance.”
“I can well understand your feelings, madame. As I came here, Madame Ladoguin, the wife of our Consul-General at Therma, begged me to place her house and her services at your disposal for as long as you required them. She is a charming and accomplished woman, and her society will cheer and refresh you.”
“Very well,” said Eirene, rising. “I hardly dare indulge hope for the future, after what I have suffered to-day. You will pardon me if I leave you now, monsieur. I can endure no more.”
“I am grieved to have been the means of inflicting this pain upon you, madame.” M. Kirileff escorted her to the door, noticing the stony glance of disdain she bestowed upon Maurice as she swept past him, and returned to his seat with a complete change of manner, while the monks pushed forward to listen.
“I need not waste much time on you,” he said contemptuously to Maurice and Zoe. “You know why you are here, and the step you must take to obtain your release. Until you take that step, you may be very sure you will remain in safe custody. Understand that you are prisoners, no longer guests. We do not propose to furnish troublesome people like you with the luxuries of a first-class hotel. You will see that the man is placed in one of your dungeons,” he added authoritatively to Papa Athanasios, “and the woman in one of the less commodious cells reserved for female pilgrims.”
“But, lord, the dungeons have not been used for hundreds of years!” protested the monk in his bad French.
“Then have one cleared for the prisoner. If there are rats, so much the better. It is unnecessary for me to use threats,” he addressed Maurice again; “your own mind—dull-witted Englishman though you are—will paint the truth for you. Here you are, and here you stay until you write out and sign the confession I shall leave you. No one knows where you are, or would think of looking for you here, and even if your prison was known, an army could not rescue you. Her Royal Highness is not vindictive, but we allow no tampering with the heritage of a princess under Scythian protection. I may as well tell you that your accomplice, the alleged British officer, is on the point of leaving Emathia, on the plea that he is summoned back to his military duties.”
“He doesn’t know Wylie, does he, Zoe?” said Maurice, as they were left standing together for a moment while M. Kirileff conversed with the Hegoumenos, and Papa Athanasios was absent preparing the dungeon.
“Of course not. Oh, Maurice, do you believe now what I said to you about Eirene? I knew she would take it like this.”
“It’s only for the first few minutes,” said Maurice, unruffled. “When she gets by herself, and this fellow isn’t by to make vile suggestions, she’ll remember all we’ve been through together, and she’ll know we simply couldn’t have meant any harm to her. Of course, it was bound to give her a shock, but she’ll be frightfully sorry when she realises the things she has said.”