"I think you may be assured of that."
"You guessed correctly a moment ago, about my receiving intelligence
concerning your visit here, before the compositors set the type of the
announcement; but the intelligence was incorporated among other things
that were conveyed to me in the same manner, and by the same message.
It had no direct significance, and beyond the mere statement of the
fact, there was no comment. I was not directed to call upon you, and in
fact there was no suggestion made that bore directly upon your presence
here. But, Zara, the mere statement of your intention conveyed to me
very many suggestions which I have come here to-day to make known to
you. I believe it to be my clear duty to do so."
"Well, my friend?"
"You know who and what I have been, and am. Always close to the person
of the czar; for very many years deeply in his confidence, and
possessing I believe his friendship to an extraordinary degree, it has
been my pleasure as well as my duty to serve my emperor in many secret
ways which our little world at St. Petersburg does not know or
appreciate. The fact that I am at present an expatriate, as you have so
aptly stated, is due to reasons which I need not explain, and which do
not concern us just now. The fact that I am one, has stationed me in
New York by choice, and not by direction; but I thank God that I am
here to greet you upon your arrival because I hope by very plain
speaking to change a course you have determined upon, and to induce
you----"
"Wait one moment, Saberevski. Don't you think that you are getting
rather beyond your depth? I appreciate all that you are trying so
vainly to tell me. I know of your personal interest in me, and I honor
you and thank you for it. But it is not like Alexis Saberevski to
hesitate over a statement he has decided to make, and if I am not
mistaken you began this discourse with a determination to be frank.
Might I suggest that you make yourself more plain?"
"I have been called a diplomat of the first order, Zara," he replied,
with a smile, "but your straight-forward methods, and my resolute
purpose, make my course of procedure somewhat difficult. I will,
however, be entirely frank."
"That is better."
"Zara de Echeveria, Alexis Saberevski informs you now that he knows you
to be high in the councils of the nihilists."
Was there a suggestion of pallor for an instant upon the countenance of
the princess? Was there a quick but imperceptible intaking of her
breath? Was there a deepening in the expression of her matchless eyes,
and an imperceptible widening of them, as they dwelt upon her
companion? Was there a stiffening of her figure in its attitude of
quiet repose, and did her muscles attain a sudden rigidity, induced by
that startling announcement? Saberevski could not have answered any one
of these questions. So perfectly were the features and the facial
expression of Princess Zara under her control that she outwardly
betrayed no sign of the effect of the announcement. And yet it might
well have affected her most deeply; might have startled her even into a
cry of terror; should have filled her with instant fear, because this
man who made it was one, who in his former official capacity could have
condemned almost any person in Russia to exile by a gesture, or a word.
And Zara did not doubt that his official capacity still obtained. She
knew him to be an expatriate as she had announced. She understood that
for some reason, not apparent, he had become a voluntary exile from his
native country and city, and might never again return to the scenes he
loved best. But she also knew that he was no less closely in the
confidence of the Russian emperor, and could never be any the less
inimical to the enemies of the czar. A statement such as he had made,
coming from him, charging her with complicity in revolutionary acts
which had for their object the assassination of the Russian ruler and
his possible successors, contained an implied threat more terrible in
its consequences than any other one which could have been made; more
terrible to her, personally, than to any other person against whom it
might have been made, because she knew by the experiences of one of her
girl friends, to what extremities of mental and moral torture a
Siberian exile may be condemned.