“Without you, Natacha would not have attempted to poison her father.  Without you, they would not have sent to find physicians who could blow up the datcha des Iles.  Finally, no later than yesterday, when this faithful servant of mine had set a trap they could not have escaped from, you have had the audacity, you, to warn them of it.  They owe their escape to you.  Monsieur, those are attempts against the security of the State which deserves the heaviest punishment.  Why, you went out one day from here promising me to save General Trebassof from all the plotting assassins who lurked about him.  And then you play the game of the assassins!  Your conduct is as miserable as that of Natacha Feodorovna is monstrous!”

The Emperor ceased, and looked at Rouletabille, who had not lowered his eyes.

“What can you say for yourself?  Speak — now.”

“I can only say to Your Majesty that I come to take leave of you because my task here is finished.  I have promised you the life of General Trebassof, and I bring it to you.  He runs no danger any more!  I say further to Your Majesty that there exists nowhere in the world a daughter more devoted to her father, even to the death, a daughter more sublime than Natacha Feodorovna, nor more innocent.”

“Be careful, monsieur.  I inform you that I have studied this affair personally and very closely.  You have the proofs of these statements you advance?”

Yes, Sire.”

“And I, I have the proofs that Natacha Feodorovna is a renegade.”

At this contradiction, uttered in a firm voice, the Emperor stirred, a flush of anger and of outraged majesty in his face.  But, after this first movement, he succeeded in controlling himself, opened a drawer brusquely, took out some papers and threw them on the table.

“Here they are.”

Rouletabille reached for the papers.

“You do not read Russian, monsieur.  I will translate their purport for you.  Know, then, that there has been a mysterious exchange of letters between Natacha Feodorovna and the Central Revolutionary Committee, and that these letters show the daughter of General Trebassof to be in perfect accord with the assassins of her father for the execution of their abominable project.”

“The death of the general?”

“I declare to Your Majesty that that is not possible.”

“Obstinate man!  I will read -”

“Useless, Sire.  It is impossible.  There may be in them the question of a project, but I am greatly surprised if these conspirators have been sufficiently imprudent to write in those letters that they count on Natacha to poison her father.”

“That, as a matter of fact, is not written, and you yourself are responsible for it not being there.  It does not follow any the less that Natacha Feodorovna had an understanding with the Nihilists.”

“That is correct, Sire.”

“Ah, you confess that?”