"Ah!" she said at last, "no wonder your Eminence feels nervous and ill at ease with such fragile things in your keeping. You have no idea how careless the custom-house officials and railway porters are in Austria, with boxes and valises belonging to men. With ladies' things, I notice, they are much more careful, for they fear the consequences of a crushed gown, or a torn piece of lace."
"You absolutely give me the shudders, chère madame," said his Eminence. "I declare my life will be a perfect misery until the happy moment when they are safe in the Princess Marïonoff's hands, let alone the fact of my bitter disappointment in having to forego my long-projected holiday."
Madame Demidoff was still attentively examining the pretty bibelots as she said playfully:
"Would your Eminence really care to give up the chance of being Cupid's messenger?"
"If I only knew the way to do that, chère madame, how gladly would I do it!"
"Well, then, your eminence shall see what a good friend I am to you. I will take charge of this parcel for you while you are on your holiday, and I promise you it shall be as safe with me as it ever was at the Hofburg."
"You, madame?"
"Yes. I was starting for Petersburg to-night, as you know, and if you like I will take the candlesticks with me, packed up among my best Court gowns and laces; then, if you wish, I will either leave them at the Marionoff palace, with your card, or keep them until your arrival, if you prefer to deliver them actually yourself."
"Madame, you are a thousand times too kind," said his Eminence hesitatingly. " I really hardly like to take you at your word, and yet –– "
"It would relieve you of a great anxiety, is it not so, and, moreover, will leave you free to start on your incognito travel, and not to disappoint those who wished to accompany you," she added archly, noting how ready his Eminence was to yield.
"Ah, madame, do not tempt me, lest I might accept," he said, still resisting for form's sake.
"Say no more about it, then, and accept my friendly offer as it was meant," she said, as, with a charming gesture, she stretched out her hand towards the Cardinal, who gallantly kissed the tips of her dainty fingers.
"How can I thank you, chère madame?" he said, with an unmistakable sigh of relief, as he finally gave in to her kind persuasion.
"By telling me all the latest scandals about my best friends," she said laughingly, settling herself once more comfortably in her luxurious armchair.
The victory was gained, and for the next half-hour his Eminence's sprightly conversation helped her to forget the agitations of the evening. He finally took his leave, leaving the bibelots that had caused him so much annoyance safely in her charge; and it was agreed that Madame Demidoff would take care of them until his Eminence's return from Carlsbad, when he would hand them over himself to the Princess Marïonoff.
Thus it was that her diplomatic gifts had once more stood her in good stead; and, what she considered the safest possible hiding-place for her reports, was now in her possession to make use of as she wished.
It was getting late, and she was more resolved than ever to leave Vienna this very night, lest his Eminence might change his mind on the morrow and rob her once more of her precious charge. She collected the notes she had recently made, together with a few other papers, containing her various reports to the Third Section; and, unconsciously imitating Volenski's actions, she touched the secret spring and slipped the documents into the velvet-lined receptacle within the shaft of the candlestick. Safe they were, of that there was no doubt.
She carefully packed up the precious bibelots in their numerous wrappings, wrote on the outside covering in bold letters: "The property of his Eminence Cardinal d'Orsay–China–Very fragile," then took the parcel up with her, and put it away in her valise.
An hour later, accompanied by her maid who carried the fateful burden, she drove away to the Nordbahn, en route for St. Petersburg.
At about the same time Iván Volenski, hearing the Cardinal's footsteps in the rooms below, knocked at his Eminence's door to inquire if he would require his services again that night.
"Come in, Iván," said the Cardinal in highly elated tones; "this time it is good news I have to impart to you. We shall both have our holiday, my son; and I start for Carlsbad to-morrow."
Iván stared at his Eminence in complete astonishment.
"But … what about the candlesticks?" he asked breathlessly.
"Ah! that is the delightful piece of luck that has happened," explained his Eminence. "Madame Demidoff, who is herself going to Petersburg to-morrow, has consented to take the tiresome things over for me, and to keep them in her charge until my return from Carlsbad. I fetched them away myself this evening, and I am thankful to say the responsibility of travelling with those brittle things is safely off my shoulders."
Volenski had become deathly pale.
"Madame Demidoff … the candlesticks.…" he gasped. "I do not understand –– "
"Why, my friend, don't look so scared. I was showing the bibelots to madame, and quite casually mentioned that I was somewhat disappointed at having, on their account, to give up a long-expected holiday: so she very kindly offered to take the candlesticks over to Petersburg for me, which offer I gladly accepted; and you see me with a burden less on my mind."
Volenski was vainly trying to regain his composure.
"And did your Eminence show Madame Demidoff the secrets of the candlesticks?" he asked breathlessly.
"I really do not remember," said his Eminence. "I dare say I did; but you seem very anxious about the matter. I don't understand the reason."
"My anxiety is entirely in your Eminence's interest; my fear is lest the candlesticks are really safe in a lady's keeping."
"Is that all?" said his Eminence somewhat drily, and darting a quick glance from his penetrating eyes at Volenski, who bore the scrutiny bravely. "You may set your mind at rest, then; I consider the candlesticks quite safe, my dear Volenski. So now good-night. I start early to-morrow morning.
"You will, I am afraid, have to stay another day longer, in order to see to the correspondence; but after that your time is your own, till we meet at Petersburg on the 3rd of next month. Good night, my son."
Volenski bowed low before the Cardinal, and, more dead than alive, he reached the quietness of his own room, where he could collect his thoughts and view the immediate future.
That the peril was deadly, that after this at any hour, any moment, the blow might fall, he realised in one moment.
All the papers relating to their plot–so carefully planned, so daringly executed–the draft of their manifesto to be placed by Taranïew in the Tsar's hands, documents which in most cases bore the names of the conspirators, and which would send them, one and all, if discovered, to Siberia or to death, all were contained in the secret receptacle of one of the candlesticks, that even now were in Madame Demidoff's hands. All that required no reflection; they were hard, undeniable facts.
What did need serious thinking–as the catastrophe had by some extraordinary stroke of good luck so far been averted–was how to ward it off successfully.
In the first place, it was quite evident that so far the papers were safe.
The Cardinal and Madame Demidoff had seen nothing; either his Eminence forgot or forebore to show the lady the secret spring, or, having done so, he happened to have used the candlestick that did not