She took it mechanically, scarcely knowing what she did. The touch of the limp paper, however, brought to her mind that it was the wages of her treachery. This filled her with indignation, and her face flushed crimson.
“Have you come to offer me yet another insult, Colonel Solovieff?” she cried. “Can you believe that I have fallen so low as to accept money as the price of the lives of poor wretches who are drawn into your merciless clutches? No, tell His Majesty that he may in future keep his paltry roubles. I do not require them. See how I value the Imperial munificence!”
And, taking the note between her fingers, she tore it into small pieces, which she scattered upon the carpet.
“We are not all so wealthy as yourself, madame,” he said, somewhat surprised at her unusual independence. “Yet, after all, your scruples regarding these miserable curs, the Nihilists, amount to no more than mere caprice.”
“That may be so,” she replied quickly; “but in future, whatever information you require, you will obtain for yourself. My efforts on your behalf have been rewarded by gross insult; therefore I shall refuse to disclose any other revolutionary secrets.”
“Pardon me, madame; I have no time to bandy words with you, but your decision is somewhat too hasty. I have discovered that three days hence a desperate attempt is to be made upon the life of His Majesty during the review at Peterhof, and further, that you are implicated in it!”
She started; she had believed her secret safe.
“I have resolved to preserve silence,” she said abruptly.
“The plot is a most serious and widespread one,” he continued, “and I tell you plainly that if you refuse to inform me where the meeting to arrange the final details will take place, I shall arrest both Denissoff and yourself as Nihilists. You have your choice.”
She was nonplussed, and sat twirling the ribbons of her dress with nervous fingers, while he leaned his elbows upon the table, looking at her intently.