thought. "She is now as blind as an
owl. If only I can escape from talking to her, I'm safe."

Unfortunately, Antoinette asked him to take the Princess in to dinner.
He offered her his arm, and led her to the table, in absolute silence.
She, too, did not speak; but when they sat down, she began to talk gaily
to the priest of the parish, who was sitting on her right. Her sight was
so bad that she had to bend over her wineglasses to find the one she
wanted. Seeing this, Samuel Brohl recovered his self-confidence.

"She can't have recognised me," he thought; "my voice, my accent, my
bearing, everything has changed. Poland has entered into my blood. I am
no longer Samuel, I am Larinski."

Boldly entering into the general conversation, he related with a
melancholy grace a story of the Polish insurrection, shaking his
lion-like mane of hair, and speaking with tears in his voice. It was
impossible to be more of a Larinski than he was at that moment. When he
finished, a murmur of admiration ran round the table.

"Although we are mortal enemies, Count," said the Princess Gulof, "allow
me to congratulate you. I hear you have won the hand of Mlle. Moriaz."

"Mortal enemies?" he said, in a low, troubled voice. "Why are we mortal
enemies; my dear Princess?"

"Because I am a Russian and you are a Pole," she replied. "But we shall
not have time to quarrel. I am leaving for London at seven o'clock
to-morrow morning. What is the date of your wedding?"

"If I dared hope that you would do me the honour to attend it," he said,
skilfully evading answering her question, "I might put it off until your
return from England."

"You are too kind," said the Princess. "I would not think of delaying
the happy event to which Mile. Moriaz so eagerly looks forward. What a
beautiful girl she is! I dare not ask you what is her fortune. You are,
I can see, an idealist. You do not trouble yourself with matters of
money. But oh, you poor idealists," she whispered, leaning over him with
a friendly air, "you always come to grief in the end!"

"How is that?" he said with a smile.

"You dream with your eyes open, my dear Count Larinski, and your
awakening is sometimes sudden and unpleasant."

Then, advancing her head towards her companion, her little eyes flaming
like a viper's, she whispered: "Samuel Brohl, I knew you all along. Your
dream has come to an end."

A cold sweat broke out on the forehead of the adventurer. Leaning over
the Princess, h