Every day my fear of Prilukoff increased. I had only one thought--to
escape from him, to go far away where he could never find me; better
still, to hide with Tioka and Elise in some distant spot, where neither
this terrible maniac nor yet Naumoff, nor even Kamarowsky, could ever
reach me.
I thought of Otrada, my home. But how could my unhappy father protect me
against the loving persistence of Kamarowsky, against Naumoff's
passionate daring, or Prilukoff's diabolic designs?
In the rare moments when I was alone with Elise, we talked it over. In
trembling whispers, glancing constantly round lest the Scorpion should
be on the watch, we concerted the manner of our flight.
We made a thousand different plans, all equally extravagant and
impracticable. In our luxurious hotel rooms we were imprisoned like mice
in a trap. We never opened a door without finding a maid awaiting our
orders, or a zealous and obsequious waiter bowing to us, or Kamarowsky
asking for news, or Naumoff waiting with a bunch of flowers in his hand.
We closed the door, and found ourselves shut up with Prilukoff,
ferocious and maniacal, who glowered at us with the eye of a tiger.
A thousand times in my weakness and despair I was on the point of
throwing the door wide open and calling for help--calling Kamarowsky and
Naumoff, and crying to them: "Look! a man is shut up in here. For days
and days he has been torturing and threatening me. The man is a criminal
and a thief, and he has been my lover. Save me from him!"
But then I pictured to myself the scene of violence that would follow,
the room echoing with revolver shots; and at the mere thought of it, in
my weak and exhausted state, I fell into long fainting fits from which
Elise had the greatest difficulty in reviving me.