gradually the colour of her cheeks deepened, until at the close, with a flush of indignation and anger, she cried:
"You have been shamefully treated, sir—shamefully and outrageously. Because by chance some hot-headed idler cannot keep his tongue still, but must blab of matters he does not understand, shall murder be attempted? Major Zankoff, what had this gentleman done that you should sanction this atrocious act? We owe you an ample apology, sir; and I, the Princess Christina of Orli"—drawing herself to her full height—"tender it to you. I do not ask your name. I ask nothing, but only tell you I am profoundly sorry and deeply grieved that this should have occurred. Major Zankoff, it is my express wish that you will see this gentleman safely out of the house, and conduct him to any part of the city he desires. His safety will be your personal charge."
And with this she swept across the room and herself held open the door for me to leave.
Her beauty and grace, and, much more, the instinctive justice of her act and implied trust in my honour, conquered me. I did not wish to leave her, and lingered gazing at her in admiration. This was the Countess Bokara's vampire. If this was how she gained her victims, I, at any rate, was ready to be one of them. As we stood thus, she holding the door and I unwilling to go, our eyes met, and I was filled with one consuming, burning impulse to serve her.
Then came an interruption, which I for one welcomed profoundly.
An old man, in the uniform of a high Russian officer, entered through the door which she had used, and in a high-pitched voice said sharply:
