"What of Ivan, your brother?" I asked her.
She raised her eyes and looked at me, startled, and they were suddenly
moist with unshed tears. There was that same indescribable pain in
them, that I had noticed several times since our interview began; that
same expression which I could not fathom. But the explanation was
ready.
"I have found that there comes a time in a woman's life," she said
slowly, "when all her pet theories fall flat and useless, and when
every idol that she has worshipped is demolished. Let us not talk of
the danger to me. Let us not even speak of my brother, until the
message is prepared for my servant to carry."
"No, Zara," I told her, with decision. "I do not understand what you
meant, just now, when you referred to the demolition of your pet
theories. But it is imperative that we should speak of your brother."
"What of him?"
"Is it not more than possible that he is one of the men out there who
are waiting for me?"
"Yes, it is. I had forgotten that. But----"
"He would be caught in the net with the others. He would suffer the
same fate that fell to them. Are you willing to run the risk of his
being there? He has been to Siberia once, you tell me. Are you willing
that he should go there again?"
"No, oh, no!" she cried. "No; that must not be."
"You see, then, how impossible it is for you to give me a messenger,
unless you can promise for Ivan as well as for yourself."
"Promise? And for Ivan? What promise need I make for him? If he is
there shall he not take his chance with those who are with him? But no,
no. You are right, Dubravnik. I cannot let him be captured, perhaps
killed, in this way," she said brokenly. "I cannot sacrifice Ivan.
Cannot you see how I am suffering? Even though I try with all my
strength to conceal it, can't you see it? Is there not some other way?
Is there not something that can be done? Will you not help me? Great
God! Must my brother be sent back to the hell of Siberia--or must
you----"
"Zara," I interrupted her, deliberately taking a step backwards and
putting my hands behind me, fearing that I might clasp her in my arms
in spite of my resolution to remain calm and to continue to be master
of the situation, "I think there is another way; I believe that
something can be done; I will help you; I do see why you suffer. You
are torn by so many conflicting desires, child; you do not know which
way to turn. Here am I, your lover; out yonder, waiting to kill me, is
your brother. But, dear, if you will trust to me, and will obey me
implicitly in all that I direct you to do, there is a way, and neither
you nor your brother shall come to harm. Will you trust to me?"