The count had already let his arm fall, seeming suddenly to have changed his mind, and in a more friendly manner he said: 

“You are right, Cecil, and what you desire shall be done.”

Taking a large sealed paper from a drawer in his writing-desk, he handed it to Cecil.

“That is the order for the arrest; destroy it yourself!” said he.

Taking the paper, Cecil read it with attention.  “It is, as you say, the order for the arrest.  It is destroyed!”

With a satisfied smile, he tore the paper into a thousand pieces, and placed these in his bosom.

The count had stepped to the table and hastily written a few lines upon another piece of paper.  This he handed to Cecil.  “I hope you are now satisfied,” said he.

Cecil took the paper and read it.

“This is a safety-pass in due form,” said he—­“a valid instruction to all boundary guards and officials to let us pass without molestation.  Your excellency, we are quits.  I complied with your wish, as you now have with mine, and my dear master is saved!”

“It being understood that you start immediately,” said the count.

“The post-horses are already ordered, and we shall set out as soon as I return home.  Farewell, therefore, Sir Count; I thank you for enabling me to save the man whom I most loved.  I thank you!”

Cecil was approaching the door, when he suddenly stopped, and his face took a sad expression.  “I have deceived my dear master, in order to save him,” said he, “and in order to redeem the promise I made to his father on his death-bed, swearing that I would watch over and protect the son at the risk of my heart’s blood.  But if the son knew what I have done, he would call me a betrayer and curse me, for he holds his ward dearer than his own life!  He leaves the princess in the belief that it is necessary for her safety, and repairs to Russia, to return with increased wealth.  Sir Count, what is to become of Natalie?”

“That,” low and mysteriously replied the count, “that can be decided only by the will of her who has sent me.  Until that decision no hair of her head can be touched, and the princess will follow me to Russia, only with her own free will!  But you must know that the empress hates no one more than her own son.  How, then, if she should be disposed to pass him over, and select another as her successor?”

“Oh, would to God that I rightly understand you!” exclaimed Cecil.

“We shall, one day, perfectly understand each other,” said the count, with a significant smile.  “Now, hasten to redeem your word, and leave Rome with your master!”

As soon as Cecil left the room, the count’s face assumed a knavishly malicious expression.  With a loud laugh he threw himself upon the silken divan.