"And sweeter still to love you," she retorted, smiling and rousing

herself. "Sit here in this chair," she added, rising and forcing me to

do the same; and when I had complied she drew a large hassock toward

me, and seating herself upon it while she rested one shapely arm across

my knees, with her face upturned to mine, she continued the story.

"Shall I continue to represent you as being the embodiment of the

character I am describing?" she asked.

"If you prefer it so."

"Listen, then, for I think I do prefer it so. I want you to hear the

story to the end, for it will make you understand many things which are

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now obscured; and if I give you the part of the great actor in this

tragedy, that also is for a purpose."

"Yes, dear."

"You returned to St. Petersburg intent upon two things, and only two.

After those two duties should be accomplished, you meant to take your

own life; and in that purpose you were upheld by those among your

friends who knew your story.

"You meant to kill the man who had betrayed your sister into the hands

of the police, and after that to destroy the real author of all her

misfortunes and yours--the czar. You had changed so that you needed no

disguise. Had your sister been alive and well, and had she met you on

the street she would not have known you. Your once tall form so erect

and soldier-like, was bent, and your former quick tread had become

unsteady. Your hair, black as the wing of a raven when you went away,

was now white, like the snow that is heaped out there in the street.

None of your old friends recognized you although you met and passed

many of them on the avenues and streets in the full light of the day.

Even your fiancé who loved you better than she did her life, saw you

and passed you by unheeded. She saw your wistful glance, and looked

upon you wonderingly; but she, like others, believed that you were

dead, and although she felt that her heart leaped to her throat and

that a spasm of sorrowful recollections convulsed her when she glanced

into your eyes, yet she did not know you. And you--you thanked God that

she did not, for you knew that she would have flown into your arms then

and there--would have risked Siberia with all its horrors for one more

word of love from you. So you passed each other on the street so nearly

that her furs brushed against you, and she never knew--never

knew--until long after you were dead, when those friends who had helped

you when all others failed, went to her and told her."

"You were an invalid when you returned to St. Petersburg, and you

waited for health and strength before completing your work. You had

learned patience during those weary months of searching and waiting in

Siberia. Then, too, that same Russian officer whom you had sworn to

kill, was absent, and you wished him to return. Your friends told you

that he had been restored to favor with the czar, that he had been sent

to a post in Siberia; but when you arrived he was expected back within

the month. He was to take the very place and assume the same official

rank that you had once filled in the palace, next to the sacred person

of the czar. Ah! If you could only find them together, and destroy them

at the same time! Such a climax would be sweet indeed. It was for that

that you waited and hoped. But he did not come; you waited, and he did

not come.




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