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Updated: June 8, 2025
It showed a patient tenderness in the steady eyes which had always been there which Catrina had noticed in the stormy days that were past. "I cannot stay long," she replied. "I am with the Faneaux at Brandon for a few days. They dine at seven." "Ah! her ladyship is a good friend of mine. You remember her charity ball in town, when it was settled that you should come to Osterno.
The whole thing was broken up; Lanovitch and others were exiled, I bolted home, and Steinmetz faced the storm alone in Osterno. He was too clever for them, and nothing was brought home to us. But you will understand that it is necessary for us to avoid any notoriety, to live as quietly and privately as possible." "Yes, of course; but " "But what?"
The starosta was a timorous man, needing such strong support as his master gave him from time to time. At the great gates of the park they paused, and Paul gave the mayor of Osterno a few last words of advice. While they were standing there the other man who had been following joined them. "Is that you, Steinmetz?" asked Paul, his hand thrust with suspicious speed into his jacket pocket. "Yes."
He inaugurated an argument over the best cross-country route from Osterno to Thors, which sent Steinmetz out of the room for a map. During the absence of the watchful German he admired the view from the window, and this strategetic movement enabled him to say to Etta aside: "I must see you before I leave the house; it is absolutely necessary."
My dear Paul, you cannot keep up the farce any longer. You are not an English gentleman who comes across here for sporting purposes; you do not live in the old Castle of Osterno three months in the year because you have a taste for mediaeval fortresses. You are a Russian prince, and your estates are the happiest, the most enlightened in the empire. That alone is suspicious.
"It will be difficult." "And therefore worthy of your endeavor. I have the greatest regard for your diplomatic skill. I leave the matter in your hands, princess." Etta shrugged her shoulders and looked past him out of the window. De Chauxville was considering her face carefully. "Another point to be remembered," he went on, "is your husband's daily life at Osterno.
Perhaps some of us who are young men now may dimly read in our dotage of a great upheaval beside which the Terror of France will be tame and uneventful. Who can tell? When a country begins to grow, its mental development is often startlingly rapid. But we have to do with Russia of to-day, and the village of Osterno in the Government of Tver. Not a "famine" Government, mind you!
It may not have been entirely by chance that Claude de Chauxville drove over to Osterno to pay his respects the next day, and expressed himself desolated at hearing that the prince had gone out with Herr Steinmetz in a sleigh to a distant corner of the estate. "My horses must rest," said the Frenchman, calmly taking off his fur gloves. "Perhaps the princess will see me."
To begin with, he knows no Russian." "I doubt that," put in Steinmetz. "And, even if he does, he cannot come poking about in Osterno. Catrina will give him no information. Maggie hates him. You and I know him. There is only the countess." "Who will tell him all she knows! She would render that service to a drosky driver." Paul shrugged his shoulders. There was no mention of Etta.
"It makes one feel very small," said Etta, turning to the breakfast-table "at no time a pleasant sensation. Do you know," she said, after a little pause, "I think it probable that I shall become very fond of Osterno, but I wish it was nearer to civilization." Paul looked pleased. Steinmetz had a queer expression on his face.
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