And he courteously conducted his sister to the massive oak doors, which closed solidly after her.

“What does this mean?” said the baroness, rising angrily, her gray eyes flashing at the count from under her broad brows.

“A coincidence,” answered Kallash, shrugging his shoulders with an ironical smile.

“How a coincidence?  Speak clearly!”

“The former mistress has recognized her former maid—­that is all.”

“How does this woman come to be here?  Who is she?”

“I have told you already; Princess Anna Chechevinski.  And as to how she came here, that was also a coincidence, and a strange one.”

“Impossible!” exclaimed the baroness.

“Why impossible?  They say the dead sometimes return from the tomb, and the princess is still alive.  And why should the matter not have happened thus, for instance?  Princess Anna Chechevinski’s maid Natasha took advantage of the confidence and illness of the elder princess to steal from her strong box, with the aid of her sweetheart, Kasimir Bodlevski, money and securities—­mark this, baroness—­securities in the name of Princess Anna.  And might it not happen that this same lithographer Bodlevski should get false passports at the Cave, for himself and his sweetheart, and flee with her across the frontier, and might not this same maid, twenty years later, return to Russia under the name of Baroness von Doering?  You must admit that there is nothing fantastic in all this!  What is the use of concealing?  You see I know everything!”

“And what follows from all this?” replied the baroness with a forced smile of contempt.

“Much may follow from it,” significantly but quietly replied Kallash.  “But at present the only important matter is, that I know all.  I repeat it—­all.”

“Where are your facts?” asked the baroness.

“Facts?  Hm!” laughed Kallash.  “If facts are needed, they will be forthcoming.  Believe me, dear baroness, that if I had not legally sufficient facts in my hands, I would not have spoken to you of this.”

Kallash lied, but lied with the most complete appearance of probability.

The baroness again grew confused and turned white.

“Where are your facts?  Put them in my hands!” she said at last, after a prolonged silence.

“Oh, this is too much!  Get hold of them yourself!” the count replied, with the same smile.  “The facts are generally set forth to the prisoner by the court; but it is enough for you in the meantime to know that the facts exist, and that they are in my possession.  Believe, if you wish.  If you do not wish, do not believe.  I will neither persuade you nor dissuade you.”

“And this means that I am in your power? she said slowly, raising her piercing glance to his face.

“Yes; it means that you are in my power,” quietly and confidently answered Count Kallash.

“But you forget that you and I are in the same boat.”