will overwhelm their
enemies. That time, madame, has not come yet. We are only at the stage
of tentative underground rumblings. But a little eruption is enough to
wipe out one man if he be standing on the spot."

"Go on," said Etta quietly--too quietly, De Chauxville might have
thought, had he been calmer.

"I want you," he went on, "to assist me. We shall be ready on Thursday.
I shall not appear in the matter at all; I have strong colleagues at my
back. Starvation and misery, properly handled, are strong incentives."

"And how do you propose to handle them?" asked Etta in the same quiet
voice.

"The peasants will make a demonstration. The rest we must leave
to--well, to the course of fortune. I have no doubt that our astute
friend Karl Steinmetz will manage to hold them in check. But whatever
the end of the demonstration, the outcome will be the impossibility of a
longer residence in this country for the Prince Pavlo Alexis. A regiment
of soldiers could hardly make it possible."

"I do not understand," said Etta, "what you describe as a
demonstration--is it a rising?"

De Chauxville nodded, with a grin.

"In force, to take what they want by force?" asked the princess.

De Chauxville spread out his hands in his graceful Gallic way.

"That depends."

"And what do you wish me to do?" asked Etta, with the same concentrated
quiet.

"In the first place, to believe that no harm will come to you, either
directly or indirectly. They would not dare to touch the prince; they
will content themselves with breaking a few windows."

"What do you want me to do?" repeated Etta.

De Chauxville paused.

"Merely," he answered lightly, "to leave open a door--a side door. I
understand that there is a door in the old portion of the castle leading
up by a flight of stairs to the smoking-room, and thence to the new part
of the building."

Etta did not answer. De Chauxville glanced at his watch and walked to
the window, where he stood looking out. He was too refined a person to
whistle, but his attitude was suggestive of that mode of killing time.

"This door I wish you to unbar yourself before dinner on Thursday
evening," he said, turning round and slowly coming toward her.

"And I refuse to do it," said Etta.

"Ah!"

Etta sprung to her feet and faced him--a beautiful woman, a very queen
of anger. Her blazing eyes were on a level with his.

"Yes," she cried, with clenched fists, standing her full height till she
seem