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Poor Catrina's voice returned an inaudible answer, and not wishing any longer to play the eavesdropper, I continued my path towards the stable. The distant noises from the city announced a state of movement and preparation, and more than one orderly passed the road near me at a gallop. As I turned into the wide courtyard, Mike, breathless and flurried with running, overtook me.

"I wish you happiness," said Catrina, and no one heard her but Paul. She did not raise her eyes to his, but looked vaguely at his collar. Her voice was short and rather breathless, as if she had just emerged from deep water. "Thank you," answered Paul simply. He turned and somewhat naturally looked at his wife. Catrina's thoughts followed his.

"There are many things I want to know; many questions which can be answered only by one's own observation. I want to see them together. Are they happy?" Catrina's face hardened. "If there is a God in heaven, and he hears our prayers, they ought not to be," she replied curtly. "She looked happy enough in Petersburg," said the Frenchman, who never told the truth for its own sake.

"My dear countess, silence!" interrupted Steinmetz at this moment, breaking into the conversation in his masterful way and enabling Etta to get away. Catrina, at the other end of the room, was listening, hard-eyed, breathless. It was the sight of Catrina's face that made Steinmetz go forward. He had not been looking at Catrina, but at Etta, who was perfect in her composure and steady self-control.

Maggie was looking straight in front of her in the direction of the fire, but not with eyes focussed to see any thing so near at hand. She bore the scrutiny without flinching. As soon as Catrina's eyes were averted the mask-like stillness of her features relaxed. "She does not take that trouble now," added the Russian girl, in reply to her own question.

Bad luck to it for campaigning, any way, I never liked it!" Catrina's reply, for it was she, I could not gather; but Mike resumed: "Ay, just so, sore bones and wet grass, accadenté, and half-rations. Oh, that I ever saw the day when I took to it!

There is no simpler method of discovering a secret than to ignore its existence. It is possible that De Chauxville became aware of Catrina's sidelong glances of anxiety in his direction. He may have divined that silence was more effective than speech. He sat looking straight in front of him, as if too deeply absorbed in his own thoughts to take even a passing interest in the scenery.

"And do other people, other noblemen, try to do this sort of thing too?" asked Etta at length. "Catrina Lanovitch does," replied Paul. "What? The girl with the hair?" "Yes," answered Paul. He had never noticed Catrina's hair. Etta's appraising eye had seen more in one second than Paul had perceived in twenty years. "Yes," he answered. "But, of course, she is handicapped." "By her appearance?"

The stableman, seeing the direction of his gaze, began to talk of the weather and the possibilities of snow in the near future. They conversed in low voices together. Presently the door opened and Catrina came quickly out, followed by a servant carrying a small hand-bag. Paul could not see Catrina's face. She was veiled and furred to the eyelids.

"Then," said De Chauxville, with a brave shrug of the shoulders, "it is the turn of the bear. The excitement is his the laugh is with him." Catrina's foot was upon the loud pedal again. "Nevertheless, madame," said De Chauxville, "I make so bold as to use the word. You perhaps know me well enough to be aware that I am rarely bold unless my ground is sure."