Boris had left no instructions in regard to Mademoiselle's food, and
as she did not consider it advisable to let the unfortunate girl
starve, Madame set a tray, with the intention of carrying it up to
Natalie's room.
Before she could do this, however, it was necessary to send for
Michael in order to obtain the key.
When she asked for it, he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.
"I have very strict orders," he said.
"What do you mean?" Madame demanded sharply. "What do you mean?"
"Simply that the master said that you and the young lady were not to
get talking too much. He said nothing about food, or of waiting on
her highness, and it didn't occur to me until this morning that it was
a bit awkward for a chap like myself to wait on her.
"However," he added, with a smirk, "I don't so much mind."
But Michael's clumsy utterances had aroused all Madame's sleeping
suspicions. There was no reason why she should keep silence.
She laughed in Michael's face.
"It was hardly necessary for your master to give you any orders,
seeing that he gave certain instructions to me. He said that since
there was no other woman in the house it would be my place to take
Mademoiselle anything that she actually needed. I am going to take up
her breakfast now. Give me the key."
Michael hesitated a moment, but finally handed over the key. Madame
put it on the breakfast tray and went upstairs.
Natalie, as she heard the bolts drawn back and the key turned in the
lock, suffered fresh apprehension. For she had caught the rustle of
Madame's skirts outside, and she would rather have faced Boris than
the woman.
With very little apology Madame Estelle entered, and, setting the
breakfast down, immediately withdrew.
In half an hour's time she went up for the tray, and then she faced
Natalie boldly and looked her in the eyes.
"Mademoiselle," she said, "I am really ashamed to meet you here in
such a way. I will not ask you to forgive me, for you will not
understand. I can only tell you that I am a very loving and also a
very jealous woman."
Madame Estelle paused, and was conscious that Natalie looked at her
in great surprise.
"I want," she continued, "to ask you a question which means much to
me. Is it, or is not, one of Boris Ivanovitch's conditions that you
shall marry him?"
"Yes," answered Natalie, very quietly, "it is."
Madam's rather flushed face grew white, and her eyes blazed with
passion. She clenched her fists and beat the air with them.
"Oh, the liar!" she cried, "the liar! Oh! it is hard to be treated
like this when I have done so much for him."
Natalie drew back, startled and amazed.
"I assure you that you need have no fear so far as I am concerned.
Both my brother and myself have refused to comply with that
condition, and we shall refuse to the end."
Madame, however, paid but little heed to Natalie; she was beside
herself with rage.
"Ah, ah!" she cried, "wait till he returns! I'll kill him! I'll kill
him!"
So distorted with fury was the woman's face that Natalie became
alarmed for her sanity. She drew near to her and endeavoured to catch
her hands in her own, imploring her to be calm.
By-and-by Madame Estelle listened to her, and in a sudden revulsion of
feeling fell on her knees, sobbing bitterly.
Natalie bent over her, doing her best to console her, and presently,
as the woman grew calmer, she endeavoured to turn the situation to her
own advantage.
"The best way to defeat his scheme," she urged, "is to release me."
But at that Madame Estelle leaped to her feet.
"Ah! not that," she cried, "not that! If I distrust him, I distrust
you still more. Your pretty face may look sad and sorrowful, and you
may declare to me that you will never consent, but I will wait and
see. I'll wait until Boris returns and confront you with him. Then
perhaps I shall learn the real truth."
Natalie made a little despairing gesture with her hands; argument, she
saw, would be useless.
Gathering herself together, Madame blundered, half blind with tears,
out of the room, and Natalie with a sinking heart heard the bolts
drawn again.
All through the day Estelle sat brooding, sending Natalie's lunch and
tea up to her by Michael.
All the evening she still sat and brooded, until she had worked
herself up into a hysteria of rage.
It was long after dark when a knock sounded on her door. It was Boris.
"Ah!" she cried, as he entered, "what do you think I have gone
through? What do you think I have suffered? What do you think I have
found out?"
Boris looked at her in alarm.
"Is it Mademoiselle?" he asked. "Is she safe?"
"Safe! Oh, yes, she is safe," she cried, with a peal of uncanny
laughter. "Safe for your kisses and for your caresses. Oh, you liar!
you liar! I have been true to you in all respects, and you have been
false to me in everything that mattered. So you will marry the pretty
Natalie, will you? Oh, but you won't! Never! Never!"
She rushed at Boris, as though to strike him, but Boris, jaded though
he was, was quick and strong.
He caught her brutally, as he might a dog, by the neck, and threw her
into the dining-room, the door of which stood open, and, utterly
careless as to what harm he might do to her, sent the unhappy woman
sprawling onto the floor. In a second he had banged the door to and
turned the key in the lock.
He heard Estelle pick herself up and hurl herself in blind and
impotent fury against the door.
He listened as shriek after shriek of frenzy reached his ears.
Up in the tower Natalie heard these shrieks, too, and shuddered. A
horrible fear took possession of her heart that there was murder being
done below.
She sat on the edge of her bed with her hands pressed to her heart,
listening in fascinated horror.
The shrieks died away, and there was complete silence in the house for
full half an hour.
Then she heard a sudden shout, a crashing of glass and a scrambling,
tearing noise, the hideous bay of the boarhounds in the court-yard, a
scream, and a thud.
Stabbing the other noise with sharp precision came the sound of
shots.