So this was what the apparently benevolent Salmoros had secured him for, to be a spy of the Russian Government. At first he felt a little indignant. La Belle Quéro might be a traitress, a conspirator, but was it his mission to unmask her?

Then his shrewd Latin sense came to his aid. Whatever their ulterior motives, his powerful friends had incidentally helped him, and his bounden duty was to them. If the handsome Spanish woman, who should have no part or lot in the political concerns of Russia, had chosen to mix herself up with a lot of base intriguers, that was her business. It was, after all, diamond cut diamond.

Perhaps he was the more impelled to the cause which the wily Golitzine had urged him to take, by the rumour in the circles where he chiefly mixed that the names of Prince Zouroff and La Belle Quéro were generally coupled together. It was currently reported that as soon as the beautiful singer could get a divorce from her complacent fisherman, she would marry the Prince. But in Roman Catholic countries divorce is not easily to be obtained, and the fascinating Madame Quéro was still united to the lover of her youth. And according to further rumour, Zouroff was not inclined to hurry matters on. As a matter of fact, he was much more interested in other things. Perhaps, also, the lady was not quite so keen as formerly.

So Nello resolved to play his part, the part that it was his bounden duty to play. If the Spanish woman and her confederates were playing a low-down game, he was playing a straight one by outwitting them, in the interests of the Imperial House which had shown him such remarkable favour.

That night the two met, as Madame Quéro was going to her dressing-room. She had sung better than ever that evening, never had she aroused greater enthusiasm. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were glowing with triumph. She met Corsini’s cold glance, and her smile faded away.

“You do not seem very amiable to-night, Signor. Have I had the misfortune to offend you in any way?”

The appealing look she darted at him was certainly that of a woman more or less in love. For a moment, Nello felt a little ashamed of the part he had to play; it seemed cowardly to hurt a woman. But after all, his duty was to his benefactors, and if she was the traitress they alleged she deserved no mercy.

Nello bowed, but made no immediate response. He was on the point of moving away, when she laid a detaining hand upon his arm.

“Stay, I beseech you! Why are you so cold? I have sung better than ever to-night, and yet you offer me no word of congratulation. Many a time, when I have sung badly, you have been profuse of your praises, and I thought we were such good friends!”

Nello saw his opportunity at once. “I used to think, Madame, that we were very good friends.”