“But why not, madame? In this I can serve you, I am happy to say. At the inn I will write a note to Prince Pelenko’s steward, and he will send you the necessary permission without troubling the unhappy Prince Shishman. Of course I will assure him that you will confine your walks to the unenclosed woods, and not threaten the privacy of the mourner.”
“Surely that assurance is scarcely necessary, Prince?” said Usk haughtily.
“You must pardon me, my dear Lord Usk. I was only considering how, as a friend of the family, I could best ensure the goodwill of an old family servant. You intend to spend some time here? I myself am leaving at once, summoned to the sick-bed of my sister-in-law, Pauline Vassilievna, or I should have been delighted to do anything in my power to show you the neighbourhood.”
“We stay here,” returned Usk, with unconscious grimness, “until we have cleared up the mystery of my uncle’s fate.”
“Indeed?” Prince Soudaroff raised his eyebrows. “It is a delicate suggestion to make, but are you sure you are quite wise? Is it kind to condemn madame to a possibly lifelong sojourn among these hills? When one wishes to disappear, one is generally able to baffle pursuit.”
“Count Mortimer didn’t wish to disappear!” cried Helene indignantly. “It is his enemies who have got him imprisoned somewhere.”
“Ah? ‘The Prince of the Captivity,’ indeed!” said Prince Soudaroff pleasantly. “I would not for the world destroy your faith, madame. But I must reluctantly depart. I trust we may often meet again. Farewell, madame! farewell, Lord Usk—surely all the world must be jealous of your happiness?” and kissing Helene’s hand gallantly, the diplomatist departed.
“Usk,” breathed Helene, clutching her husband’s arm, “that man knows!”
“Knows what?”
“Where the dear Count is. I saw it in his eye.”