“Your Highness evidently knows the Leithcourts,” I hazarded, after a brief silence.

“I have heard of them,” was her unsatisfactory reply.  “I go to England sometimes.  When the Prince was alive, we were often at Claridge’s for the season.  The Prince was for five years military attache at the Embassy under de Staal, you know.  What I know of the Leithcourts is not to their credit.  But you tell me that there was a mysterious incident before their flight.  Explain it to me.”

At that moment the long white doors of the handsome salon were thrown open by the faithful Tartar servitor, and there entered a man whose hair fell over the collar of his heavy overcoat, but whom, in an instant, I recognized as Otto Kampf.

Both Elma and I sprang to our feet, while advancing to the Princess he bent and gallantly kissed the hand she held forth to him.  Then he shook hands with Elma, and acknowledging my own greetings, took off his coat and threw it upon a chair with the air of an accustomed visitor.

“I come, Princess, in order to explain to you,” he said.  “Mademoiselle fears rearrest, and the only house in Petersburg that the police never suspect is this.  Therefore I send her to you, knowing that with your generosity you will help her in her distress.”

“It is all arranged,” was her Highness’s response.  “She will remain here, poor girl, until it is safe for her to get out of Russia.”  Then, after some further conversation, and after my well-beloved had made signs of heartfelt gratitude to the man known from end to end of the Russian empire as “The Red Priest,” the Princess turned to me, saying: 

“I would much like to know what occurred before the Leithcourts left Scotland.”

“The Leithcourts!” exclaimed Kampf in utter surprise.  “Do you know the Leithcourts—­and the English officer Durnford?”

I looked into his eyes in abject amazement.  What connection could Jack Durnford, of the Marines, have with the adventurer Philip Leithcourt?  I, however, recollected Jack’s word, when I had described the visit of the Lola to Leghorn, and further I recollected that very shortly he would be back in London from his term of Mediterranean service.

“Well,” I said after a pause, “I happen to know Captain Durnford very well, but I had no idea that he was friendly with Leithcourt.”

The Red Priest smiled, stroking his white beard.

“Explain to her Highness what she desires to know, and I will tell you.”

My eyes met Elma’s, and I saw how intensely eager and interested she was, watching the movement of my lips and trying to make out what words I uttered.

“Well,” I said, “a mysterious tragedy occurred on the edge of a wood near the house rented by Leithcourt—­a tragedy which has puzzled the police to this day.  An Italian named Santini and his wife were found murdered.”

“Santini!” gasped Kampf, starting up.  “But surely he is not dead?”