destroyed, and my very life attempted, and only bleat a few baa-words of thanks to you for your gracious thoughts of me? God has not inspired my heart with that meekness, and while I have breath to breathe, a voice to speak, and hands to do, I will be your enemy. Is that enough, your Highness?" She spoke with such furious vehemence that at the close she was breathless; and she clenched her hands, and glared with hate at the Princess.
"I have not done the things you say. I could not do them," said the Princess, in a tone whose calmness did not hide from me the ache of disappointment in her heart.
"It is easy to deny. It costs but a breath," was the sneering answer. "But you ask me will I cease to be your enemy?" she added, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I will—on one condition."
"What is that?"
"One that will at least test your sincerity. Give up this enterprise of yours; cease to persecute my Prince, and I will cease to be your enemy." She put the conditions with a leer of malice, and stood waiting for the answer with a curling lip and insolent mien.
"I am not persecuting the Prince, and from my heart I declare that if Bulgaria could be freed by him I would serve him only too gladly."
"I think no good can come of prolonging this interview," I said, for I could not bear to hear the ring of insult in every word which the Countess uttered. But my interposition was ill-timed and unfortunate. Turning partly toward me the Countess said, in a tone of simulated submission, the irony of which was maddening:
"Your Highness's newest and most faithful adviser would spare your ears the blunt utterances of truth
