trance.

"Mr. Vajdar," said she, severely, "you should know what is expected of a
gentleman in his conduct toward a lady. You are well aware that the
princess cannot endure your presence, nor are you ignorant of the
reason."

The handsome young man drew a gilt pasteboard box from his side pocket,
removed the cover, and offered the contents to the last speaker. "Madam
Dormandy, you are fond of sweets. Permit me to solicit your acceptance
of these caramels. They are freshly made, and are really excellent."

But Madam Dormandy turned her back disdainfully on the peace-offering
and looked anxiously out of the window. "Where can Mr. Zimandy be all
this time?" she murmured, impatiently.

"How long will you continue to dog my steps?" asked the princess,
addressing the intruder in a voice that trembled with passion.

"Only to the grave," was the smiling reply; "there we shall
separate--you to enter the gates of paradise, where I despair of gaining
admission."

"But what reason have you for wishing my ruin?"

"Because you yourself will have it so. Have I ever made any secret of my
designs or of my motives?"

"Are you determined to make me leave this compartment?"

"You would gain nothing by so doing," was Vajdar's cool retort. "I could
not possibly forego the pleasure of your company, in whatever way you
might choose to continue your journey."

"What is your purpose in all this?" demanded Blanka.

"To make you either as happy as a man can make a woman, or as wretched
as only the devil himself can render a human being."

"I defy you to do either."

"Futile defiance! The game is in my hands, and I can make you as one
buried alive."

"God will never allow such an iniquity!" cried the princess.

"Ah, my dear madam, you forget that we are on our way to Rome, where
there are churches by the score, but no God."

Blanka shuddered in spite of herself, and drew her shawl more closely
about her, while her foe crossed one leg over the other and smiled
self-complacently.

The warning cry "_partenza!_" sounded along the platform, and the
ladies' escort came running in alarm from the dining-room and sought his
compartment.

"Have I your seat, sir?" coolly inquired Benjamin Vajdar of the man who
had so lately promised to wring his neck.

"Oh, no, certainly not," mumbled the doughty advocate, in considerable
surprise and confusion, as he caught his breath and meekly looked around
for a vacant place.

A lightning-flash