Chapter Thirty One.
The Painful Truth.
With Her Highness’s permission I had despatched a reassuring telegram in the private cipher to the Emperor prefixed by the word “Bathildis”—a message which, I think, greatly puzzled the local postmaster at Lochearnhead. Another I had sent to Miss West, and then returned to the small hotel at the loch-side where I intended to spend the night.
I had left the pair together, and strolled out across the lawn. Of what happened afterwards I was in ignorance. The girl had come in search of me a quarter of an hour later, pale, trembling and tearful, and in a broken voice told me that they had parted.
I took her soft little hand, and looking straight into her eyes asked:
“Does he know the truth?”
She shook her head slowly in the negative.
“I—I have resolved to return to Russia,” she said simply, in a faltering voice.