Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 18, 2025
But though their steps were evidently leading them to the same spot, neither the black-bearded man nor Mademoiselle Vseslavitch made the least sign that either was aware of the other's presence. The girl passed into the cathedral, the man following closely on her heels. In fear of losing sight of them Paul almost ran across the square and darted up the cathedral steps.
In a sitting room on one of the upper floors sat Natalie Vseslavitch and the wife of the Ambassador. The guests of the evening had gone, and they were having one of those little, intimate ante-retiring chats so dear to the hearts of all women. "Now, my dear," the elder lady was saying, "I insist that it is high time you were married.
At first it was the man who did most of the talking, and from what few of his words he could catch Paul judged him to be speaking in French. He droned on for some minutes, and then his voice died away. Mademoiselle Vseslavitch now asked several questions in quiet, low tones. The man answered sharply and incisively, and it seemed to Paul that there was command in his voice.
Two others were stationed on the stairs to check any advances in that direction, while two others kept the passages closed against all further comers. At the head of the intruders the leader walked swiftly towards Peter, who had advanced to meet him. "Get back, Peter Vseslavitch," said the leader, still in a pleasant and easy voice; "get back, or I will not answer for your life."
But stop! A Russian lady perhaps, you say? Il est possible." Monsieur Jacques laid a searching finger on his speculative brow. "Mademoiselle Vseslavitch, peut-être. Yes tall, surely, a brunette, too, like most of those Russians. She left this morning, quite early." Paul's heart leaped, only to stop again at the last sentence. "Left? Where did she go, mon ami?"
It is possible that she is travelling incognito, but if she has given her right name it will be Mademoiselle Vseslavitch." The man scratched his head and looked worried. "I would help Monsieur if I could," he said, "but I can only assure him that there is no lady staying in this hotel at all. Alas! the season is very bad, and we have few visitors."
Paul looked across at Natalie, but said nothing. The time had not yet come when he could ask Peter for that which would a thousand times repay him. Paul never quite knew how he retraced the distance to the Vseslavitch mansion.
"A note which Mademoiselle Vseslavitch directed me to give you, Madame," he said. The Countess opened it. "DEAR LADY: "I am going home. Forgive my seeming rudeness. You know my moods too well, I think, not to understand that I have suddenly felt the call of the steppe. And I charge you, my old friend, as you love me, tell no one of my whereabouts. Ever your devoted That was all.
Perhaps, in the course of my wanderings there might come a time when it would be a most important matter for me to obtain a cup of this truly remarkable brew." Mademoiselle Vseslavitch laughed mischievously at Paul. She had motioned him to a chair where the firelight reached his face, whereas her own was more in shadow. He did not see the amusement in her eyes when she replied: "Oh!
"I trust that you will pardon me, Mademoiselle," and he turned to the lady "but I have travelled all the way from Kieff to-day, and to-morrow morning I must rise early to go on my way to the Vseslavitch estate. I would prove but a dull companion at dinner, I am afraid. If you will permit me, I think I had better go up to my room." There was no dissent to Paul's suggestion.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking