I started, and almost lost my presence of mind as I recognised the deep, gruff tone of General Kolfort, followed by the soft, dulcet, seductive laugh of the Countess Bokara. Passing noiselessly through the panel, I entered the cabinet, and the sight that met my eyes made me almost cry out in astonishment.
The wily old Russian had for once met more than his match. He was seated in a chair with his arms fastened behind the back of it, staring up, with leaden face and fear-filled eyes, into the face of the woman who stood over him with a long, deadly-looking dagger in her raised hand, passion and hate blazing in her eyes, and making the blade tremble in her grasp so that the light quivered and danced on the steel as the taunting, scoffing words flowed volubly from her lips.
"Yes, you are to die. I lured you here for the purpose—lured you, as you say, with lies about the secret proofs of this Count's guilt which I could put into your hands. A single movement, and my blade strikes home to its sheath in your treacherous old heart!"
The words came through her clenched teeth, and she looked a very she-devil as she gloated over her helpless and cowering victim. He might well cower, for if ever the lust for human blood was written on a human face, it was there in every line of hers.
"What do you want?" he asked at length.
"Nothing but revenge. Nothing but that you shall feel before you die some of the pain and horror you and your cursed agents and spies have made my Prince endure for months past; nothing but to know that at last our accounts are squared, and what you tried and failed to do with me I have tried and succeeded in doing with you; nothing but your life, murderer!"
"You can name your own terms," he said again; and
