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Etta, composed and smiling, said that it was so, and introduced him to Maggie. De Chauxville took the opportunity of leaving that young lady's side, and placing himself near enough to Paul and Etta to completely frustrate any further attempts at confidential conversation. For a moment Steinmetz and Paul were left standing together. "I have had a telegram," said Steinmetz in Russian.
"You must leave Osterno," she urged earnestly; "it is unsafe to delay even a few hours. M. de Chauxville said there would be no danger. I believed him then, but I do not now. Besides, I know the peasants. They are hard to rouse, but once excited they are uncontrollable. They are afraid of nothing. You must get away to-night." Paul made no answer.
"I must ask you to cease all communication of whatever nature with the Baron de Chauxville. I am not jealous of him now. I do not know why." He paused, as if wondering what the meaning of this might be. Etta knew it. The knowledge was part of her punishment. "But," continued her husband. "I am not going to sacrifice the name my mother bore to the vanity of a French coxcomb.
"A lenient master," pursued the Frenchman, whose vanity was tickled by the word. "I do not ask much. One thing is to be invited to Osterno, that I may be near you. The other is a humble request for details of your daily life, that I may think of you when absent." Etta drew in her lips, moistening them as if they had suddenly become parched. De Chauxville glanced at her and moved toward the door.
"Yes," answered Vassili behind the rigid smile; "Karl Steinmetz." "And that," said De Chauxville, watching the face of his companion, "is all you can tell me?" "To be quite frank with you," replied the man who had never been quite frank in his life, "that is all I want to tell you." De Chauxville lighted a cigarette, with exaggerated interest in the match.
"Oh I think about my dresses, and the new fashions, and parties, and all the things that girls do think of." Catrina shook her head. She looked stubborn and unconvinced. Then suddenly she changed the conversation. "Do you like M. de Chauxville?" she asked. "No." "Does Paul like him?" "I don't know." Catrina looked up for a moment only.
Thus the two men waited until De Chauxville had recovered himself sufficiently to take his departure. The air was full of naked human passions. It was rather a grewsome scene. At last the Frenchman stood slowly up, and with characteristic thought of appearances fingered his torn coat. "Have you a cloak?" asked Steinmetz. "No."
"You always were a champion of helpless ladies," sneered De Chauxville. "Ah! You remember that, do you? I also I remember it. It is long ago, and I have forgiven you; but I have not forgotten. What you were then you will be now. Your record is against you." Steinmetz was standing with his back to what appeared to be the only exit from the room.
It was in this that Claude de Chauxville proposed to assist her. "It is preposterous that people should make others suffer and go unpunished," he said, intent on his noble purpose. Catrina's eyelids flickered, but she made no answer. The soreness of her heart had not taken the form of a definite revenge as yet. Her love for Paul was still love, but it was perilously near to hatred.
"If you do not happen to come over, perhaps I may be allowed to call and pay my respects or is the distance too great?" "You can do it in an hour and a half with a quick horse, if the snow is good," answered Paul. "Then I may make it au revoir?" enquired De Chauxville, holding out a frank hand. "Au revoir," said Paul, "if you wish it." And he turned to say good-by to Catrina.
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