“I have been informed that something will happen to-night.  Natacha went to Krestowsky and exchanged some words with Annouchka there.  Prince Galitch is involved, and it is an affair of State.”

“Natacha has returned?” inquired Rouletabille.

“Yes, a long time ago.  She ought to be in bed.  In any case she is pretending to be abed.  The light from her chamber, in the window over the garden, has been put out.”

“Have you warned Matrena Petrovna?”

“Yes, I have let her know that she must keep on the sharp look-out to-night.”

“That’s a mistake.  I shouldn’t have told her anything.  She will take such extra precautions that the others will be instantly warned.”

“I have told her she should not go to the ground-floor at all this night, and that she must not leave the general’s chamber.”

“That is perfect, if she will obey you.”

“You see I have profited by all your information.  I have followed your instructions.  The road from the Krestowsky is under surveillance.”

“Perhaps too much.  How are you planning?”

“We will let them enter.  I don’t know whom I have to deal with.  I want to strike a sure blow.  I shall take him in the act.  No more doubt after this, you trust me.”

“Adieu.”

“Where are you going?”

“To bed.  I have paid my debt to my host.  I have the right to some repose now.  Good luck!”

But Koupriane had seized his hand.

“Listen.”

With a little attention they detected a light stroke on the water.  If a boat was moving at this time for this bank of the Neva and wished to remain hidden, the right moment had certainly been chosen.  A great black cloud covered the moon; the wind was light.  The boat would have time to get from one bank to the other without being discovered.  Rouletabille waited no longer.  On all-fours he ran like a beast, rapidly and silently, and rose behind the wall of the villa, where he made a turn, reached the gate, aroused the dvornicks and demanded Ermolai, who opened the gate for him.

“The Barinia?” he said.

Ermolai pointed his finger to the bedroom floor.

“Caracho!”

Rouletabille was already across the garden and had hoisted himself by his fingers to the window of Natacha’s chamber, where he listened.  He plainly heard Natacha walking about in the dark chamber.  He fell back lightly onto his feet, mounted the veranda steps and opened the door, then closed it so lightly that Ermolai, who watched him from outside not two feet away, did not hear the slightest grinding of the hinges.  Inside the villa Rouletabille advanced on tiptoe.  He found the door of the drawing-room open.  The door of the sitting-room had not been closed, or else had been reopened.  He turned in his tracks, felt in the dark for a chair and sat down, with his hand on his revolver in his pocket, waiting for the events that would not delay long now.  Above he heard distinctly from time to time the movements of Matrena Petrovna.  And this would evidently give a sense of security to those who needed to have the ground-floor free this night.  Rouletabille imagined that the doors of the rooms on the ground-floor had been left open so that it would be easier for those who would be below to hear what was happening upstairs.  And perhaps he was not wrong.