Beratinsky, who was about to leave, turned sharply and the coal-black eyes were fixed intently on Lind’s face.

“I?” he said.  “Not I!  We will talk again about it, Brother Lind.”

Reitzei opened the door, Lind screwed out the gas, and then the three men descended the wooden staircase, their footsteps sounding through the silent house.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

SANTA CLAUS.

To save time Brand jumped into a hansom and drove down to Curzon Street.  He was too much preoccupied to remember that Natalie had wished him not to come to the house.  Anneli admitted him, and showed him up-stairs into the drawing-room.  In a couple of seconds or so Natalie herself appeared.

“Well,” said she lightly, “you have come to tell me about Santa Claus?  You have discovered the mysterious messenger?”

She shut the door and went forward to him.

“What is the matter?” she said, quickly:  there was something in his look that alarmed her.

He caught both her hands in his, and held them tight.

“Nothing to frighten you, at all events,” said he:  “no, Natalie I have good news for you.  Only—­only—­you must be brave.”

It was he who was afraid; he did not know how to begin.

“That locket there,” said he, regarding the little silver trinket.  “Have you ever thought about it?—­why do you wear it?”

“Why do I wear it?” she said, simply.  “Because one day that Calabressa was talking to me it occurred to me that the locket might have belonged to my mother, and that some one had wished to give it to me.  He did not say it was impossible.  It was his talk of Natalie and Natalushka that put it in my head; perhaps it was a stupid fancy.”

“Natalie, the locket did belong to your mother.”

“Ah, you know, then?” she said, quickly, but with nothing beyond a bright and eager interest.  “You have seen that lady?  Well, what does she say?—­was she angry that you followed her?  Did you thank her for me for all those presents of flowers?”

“Natalie,” said he almost in despair, “have you never thought about it—­about the locket?  Have you never thought of what might be possible?”

“I do not understand you,” she said, with a bewildered air.  “What is it? why do you not speak?”

“Because I am afraid.  See, I hold your hands tight because I am afraid.  And yet it is good news:  your heart will be filled with joy; your life will be quite different from to-day ever after.  Natalie, cannot you imagine for yourself—­something beautiful happening to you—­something you may have dreamed of—­”

She became a little pale, but she maintained her calmness.

“Dearest,” said she, “why are you afraid to tell me.  You hold my hands:  do they tremble?”

“But, Natalie, think!” he said.  “Think of the locket; it was given you by one who loved you—­who has loved you all these years—­and been kept away from you—­and now she is waiting for you.”