re.

"Yes?" I replied, mindful only of the fact that she had spoken;
unmindful of the import of what she said.

"Only one way," Zara repeated. "You must join the nihilists. You must
take the oath."

I shook my head with emphasis, brought back suddenly to the intent of
her words.

"It is impossible, Zara," I said.

"You must do it, Dubravnik."

"No."

"I say that you must do it. You must take the oath. You must become a
nihilist. It is the only way. I will send a servant from the house,
with a message which will bring two or three of the leaders here, and
you shall take the oath."

She started to her feet again, reaching toward the bellcord, and I had
to spring after her, and seize her arm, in order to restrain the act
she was about to commit.

"No, Zara," I said, and forced her gently back to the couch, compelling
her to be seated, and this time dropping down beside her, and putting
my arm around her. "No, Zara, not that. I cannot take the oath. It is
utterly impossible. It is much more impossible now, than it was
before."

"Why?" she asked, in surprise.

"Because I love you, dear."

"Ah," she said smiling, "as if that were not a greater reason for your
taking it, instead of denying it."

"No, Zara," I said again. "I cannot take the oath of nihilism. I have
already taken an oath which thoroughly obviates such a possibility."

"Another oath, Dubravnik?"

"Yes."

"To whom?"

"To the czar."

"Oh," she exclaimed, and she shuddered. "I had forgotten that you were
in the service of his majesty." I thought that she drew away from me at
that, but the motion was so slight as to be almost imperceptible. "I
had forgotten all that about you, Dubravnik." Again there was a
shudder, now more visible than before. "You are under oath to the czar;
to the man, who, because he permits so many wrongs to happen I have
learned to hate." She straightened her body. "And Dubravnik I can hate
quite as forcibly as I can love."

"I do not doubt it," I said.

"You must take the oath. You must take it. You shall repudiate that
other one to the czar."

"It cannot be, Zara."

"It must be! It shall be!"

"No," I said; and there was such calm finality, such forcible emphasis
in the monosyllable I used, that she drew still farther away from me,
shuddering again as she did so, and I saw her face grow colder in its
expression, although I did not believe that it was caused by any change
in her attitude toward me.

"Can no