Katerina was glad to be reconciled to her lover on such cheap terms. Five minutes later, the card of La Belle Quéro was in Peter’s hands.
And then Peter thought long and cunningly. He had made up his mind to betray his master—it was a matter of necessity—but he was very particular that his master should not know by whom he was betrayed. There was Fritz, the German, one of the four men implicated in the abduction of Corsini. Fritz was always a shifty person, ready to sell himself to the highest bidder. Peter felt assured that Zouroff’s suspicions were already centred on Fritz. He was one of the two men who had escaped, no doubt with the connivance of the police; anyway, that would be Zouroff’s view.
The possession of Madame Quéro’s card had suggested new lines of thought. Of course, Peter did not know to what extent the beautiful singer was in the Prince’s confidence. Here, naturally, he was groping wildly in the dark. But the more he diverted Zouroff’s attention from himself on to other people, the better.
In divulging what he proposed to do to the Prince, it was more than probable that he would implicate the young Princess Nada. And Peter had a very soft spot in his heart for her. Still, it was simply a question of saving himself. If Zouroff saw red and laid all about him, as it were, Nada must protect herself. Even a ruffian like Zouroff would exercise some compunction when his sister was in question. With regard to La Belle Quéro, who had, at times, treated him a little disdainfully, with the slight arrogance of a person who had emerged from his own class into a superior one, Peter felt no qualms. The Prince and she could adjust their own differences at the proper time and hour.
Later on, he approached Zouroff with his fawning and cringing aspect, and handed him Madame Quéro’s card.
“You know that my eyes and ears are always open in your Excellency’s service,” he whined. “That is what I have found.”
Zouroff’s face grew as black as thunder as he read it. “She has been here, then. To see whom?”
Peter shrugged his shoulders. He wanted to be as non-committal as possible. “That I cannot tell. Your Excellency may guess better than I.”
The Prince looked at him long and intently. Peter was a very cunning rogue; that he knew full well; but he was the last man he was inclined to suspect.
“How did you come into possession of this?” he thundered.