“Stop, or I fire!” cried Koupriane, and he drew his revolver.  But a hand grabbed it from him.

“Not that!” said Rouletabille, as be threw the revolver far from them.  Koupriane swore at him and resumed the chase.  His fury multiplied his strength, his agility; he almost reached Katharina, who was almost out of breath, but Rouletabille threw himself into the Chief’s arms and they rolled together upon the grass.  When Koupriane rose, it was to see Katharina mounting in mad haste the stairs that led to the Barque, the floating restaurant of the Strielka.  Cursing Rouletabille, but believing his prey easily captured now, the Chief in his turn hurried to the Barque, into which Katharina had disappeared.  He reached the bottom of the stairs.  On the top step, about to descend from the festive place, the form of Prince Galltch appeared.  Koupriane received the sight like a blow stopping him short in his ascent.  Galitch had an exultant air which Koupriane did not mistake.  Evidently he had arrived too late.  He felt the certainty of it in profound discouragement.  And this appearance of the prince on the Barque explained convincingly enough the reason for Katharina’s flight here.

If the Bohemian had filched the papers or the portfolio from the dead, it was the prince now who had them in his pocket.

Koupriane, as he saw the prince about to pass him, trembled.  The prince saluted him and ironically amused himself by inquiring: 

“Well, well, how do you do, my dear Monsieur Koupriane.  Your Excellency has risen in good time this morning, it seems to me.  Or else it is I who start for bed too late.”

“Prince,” said Koupriane, “my men are in pursuit of a little Bohemian named Katharina, well known in the restaurants where she sings.  We have seen her go into the Barque.  Have you met her by any chance?”

“Good Lord, Monsieur Koupriane, I am not the concierge of the Barque, and I have not noticed anything at all, and nobody.  Besides, I am naturally a little sleepy.  Pardon me.”

“Prince, it is not possible that you have not seen Katharina.”

“Oh, Monsieur the Prefect of Police, if I had seen her I would not tell you about it, since you are pursuing her.  Do you take me for one of your bloodhounds?  They say you have them in all classes, but I insist that I haven’t enlisted yet.  You have made a mistake, Monsieur Koupriane.”

The prince saluted again.  But Koupriane still stood in his way.

“Prince, consider that this matter is very serious.  Michael Nikolaievitch, General Trebassof’s orderly, is dead, and this little girl has stolen his papers from his body.  All persons who have spoken with Katharina will be under suspicion.  This is an affair of State, monsieur, which may reach very far.  Can you swear to me that you have not seen, that you have not spoken to Katharina?”

The prince looked at Koupriane so insolently that the Prefect turned pale with rage.  Ah, if he were able — if he only dared! — but such men as this were beyond him.  Galitch walked past him without a word of answer, and ordered the schwitzar to call him a carriage.