"What is troubling you, dearest?" he asked, noticing my frightened eyes.
And he turned to see what was behind him.
I trembled in prevision of a stormy scene. But the Count did not
recognize Prilukoff; he had only seen him once for a few moments that
evening in my drawing-room when he had brought me the mysterious sealed
envelope. Now Donat had his hat on his head; and besides, with that
sinister smirk distorting his face I scarcely recognized him myself.
As soon as we rose from the table, Prilukoff did the same, and passing
in front of us entered the hotel before we did. I trembled, while
Kamarowsky with his arm in mine led me, talking placidly and
affectionately, towards the entrance of the hotel. Doubtless he intended
to accompany me to my sitting-room. But what if we found Prilukoff
there?
It was Elise Perrier who saved me. As we stepped out of the lift I saw
her coming quickly down the corridor to meet us.
"If you please, madame," she stammered, "there is a lady--a visitor"--her
lips were white as she uttered the falsehood--"who wishes to see madame.
She is waiting here, in the sitting-room, and she would like to--to see
your ladyship alone."
"Who is it?" asked the Count.
"I think it is the--that relation of madame's"--Elise was going red and
white by turns--"that relation from--from Otrada."
"Ah, I know," I stammered breathlessly. "Aunt Sonia, perhaps." Then
turning to Kamarowsky: "Will you wait for me downstairs in the
reading-room?"
"Very well. Don't be long." And Count Kamarowsky turned on his heel and
left us.
I went rapidly on in front of Elise, who, humiliated by the falsehood
she had told, hung her head in shame both for herself and for me; and I
entered my sitting-room.
On the couch, smoking a cigarette, sat Prilukoff. He did not rise when I
entered. He sat there smoking and looking at me with that curious
crooked smile. A great fear clutched my heart.
"Donat," I stammered, "why did you not let me know you had arrived?"
He made no answer; but he laughed loudly and coarsely, and my fear of
him increased.
"Did you receive my letter? Are you cross with me?"
"Cross?" he shouted, leaping to his feet, his eyes glaring like those of
a madman. "Cross? No, I am not cross." I recoiled from him in terror,
but he followed me, pushing his distorted face close to mine. "You ruin
a man, you drive him to perdition, and then you inquire whether he is
cross. You take an honorable man in your little talons, you turn and
twist him round your fingers, you mold him and transform him and turn
him into a coward, a rogue, and a thief; then you throw him aside like a
dirty rag--and you ask him if he is cross! Ha, ha!" And he laughed in my
face; he was ghastly to look at, livid in hue, with a swollen vein drawn
like a cord across his forehead.