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He was a magnificent specimen, handsome and big as one of the Swiss papal guard. He seemed watchful in all directions and all among the furniture, and was quite evidently disquieted. He advanced immediately to meet the young lady, inquiring the news. "It is all good news," replied Natacha. "Everybody here is splendid. The general is quite gay. But what news have you, monsieur le marechal?
He immediately struck a minor chord. Natacha looked fondly at her father as she sang: "When the moment comes that parts us at the close of day, when the Angel of Sleep covers you with azure wings; "Oh, may your eyes rest from so many tears, and your oppressed heart have calm; "In each moment that we have together, Father dear, let our souls feel harmony sweet and mystical; "And when your thoughts may have flown to other worlds, oh, may my image, at least, nestle within your sleeping eyes."
"Madame, madame, you think of nothing but Natacha. You have promised me not to watch her; promise me not to think about her." "Why, why did you say, 'If it was only that!?" "Because, if there were only Nihilists in your affair, dear madame, it would be too simple, or, rather, it would have been more simple.
Finally, at six o'clock in the evening of the second day, a man in a frock-coat, with a false astrakhan collar, came in and handed the concierge a letter for Joseph Rouletabille. The reporter jumped up. Before the man was out the door he had torn open the letter and read it. The letter was not from Natacha. It was from Gounsovski.
I'm not looking for anything new from Natacha, but what I did need was to be sure that Matrena didn't detest Natacha, and that she had not faked the preparations for an attack under the floor in such a way as to throw almost certain suspicion on her step-daughter. I am sure about that now. Matrena is innocent of such a thing, the poor dear soul.
Now that the police are gone we have nothing more to fear. Nothing. I tell you, mamma; you can believe me and not weep any more, mamma dear." "Yes, yes; kiss me. Kiss me again!" repeated Matrena, drying her eyes. "When you kiss me I forget everything. You love me like your own mother, don't you?" "Like my mother. Like my own mother." "You have nothing to hide from me? tell me, Natacha."
Then he returned to Rouletabille and pinched his ear. "But, tell me, how have you learned all this? And who then has poisoned the general and his wife, in the kiosk, if not Natacha?" "Natacha is a saint.
The men filed out in dismal silence. Two of them remained to guard Natacha. From outside came the sounds of a carriage from Sestroriesk ready to convey the girl to the Dungeons of Sts. Peter and Paul. A final gesture from the Prefect of Police and the rough bands of the two guards seized the prisoner's frail wrists.
Know, then, that there has been a mysterious exchange of letters between Natacha Feodorovna and the Central Revolutionary Committee, and that these letters show the daughter of General Trebassof to be in perfect accord with the assassins of her father for the execution of their abominable project." "The death of the general?" "I declare to Your Majesty that that is not possible." "Obstinate man!
"Do you know who applauded you the most this evening?" "No," said Annouchka indifferently. "The daughter of General Trebassof." "Yes, that is true, on my word," cried Ivan Petrovitch. "Yes, yes, Natacha was there," joined in the other friends from the datcha des Iles. "For me, I saw her weep," said Rouletabille, looking at Annouchka fixedly.
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