What charming, fearless self-assurance, what noble self-confidence in his smile, in his glance! What grace, what distinction in his pose, and especially in the hand which dealt the cards! Sergei Kovroff's hands were decidedly worthy of attention. They were almost always clad in new gloves, which he only took off on special occasions, at dinner, or when he had some writing to do, or when he sat down to a game of cards. As a result, his hands were almost feminine in their delicacy, the sensibility of the finger tips had reached an extraordinary degree of development, equal to that of one born blind. And those fingers were skillful, adroit, alert, their every movement carried out with that smooth, indefinable grace which is almost always possessed by the really high-class card sharper. His fingers were adorned with numerous rings, in which sparkled diamonds and other precious stones. And it was not for nothing that Sergei Kovroff took pride in them! This glitter of diamonds, scattering rainbow rays, dazzled the eyes of his fellow players. When Sergei Kovroff sat down to preside over the bank, the sparkling of the diamonds admirably masked those motions of his fingers which needed to be masked; they almost insensibly drew away the eyes of the players from his fingers, and this was most of all what Sergei Kovroff desired.
Round the table about thirty guests were gathered. Some of them sat, but most of them played standing, with anxious faces, feverishly sparkling eyes, and breathing heavily and unevenly.
Some were pale, some flushed, and all watched with passionate eagerness the fall of the cards. There were also some who had perfect command of themselves, distinguished by extraordinary coolness, and jesting lightly whether they lost or won. But such happily constituted natures are always a minority when high play is going on.
Silence reigned in the Inferno. There was almost no conversation;only once in a while was heard a remark, in a whisper or an undertone, addressed by a player to his neighbor; the only sound was that short, dry rustle of the cards and the crackling of new bank notes, or the tinkle of gold coins making their way round the table from the bank to the players, and from the players back to the bank.
The two Princes Shadursky, father and son, both lost heavily. They sat opposite Sergei Kovroff, and between them sat Baroness von Doring, who played in alliance with them. The clever Natasha egged them on, kindling their excitement with all the skill and calculation possible to one whose blood was as cold as the blood of a fish, and both the Shadurskys had lost their heads, no longer knowing how much they were losing.
XIII
AN EXPLANATION
Count Kallash and his sister had just breakfasted when the count's French footman entered the study.
"Madame la baronne von Doring!" he announced obsequiously.
Brother and sister exchanged a rapid glance.
"Now is our opportunity to make sure," said Kallash, with a smile.
"If it is she, I shall recognize her by her voice," whispered Princess Anna. "Shall I remain here or go?""Remain in the meantime; it will be a curious experience. Faites entrer!" he added to the footman.
A moment later light, rapid footsteps were heard in the entrance hall, and the rustling of a silk skirt.
"How do you do, count! I have come to see you for a moment. Icame in all haste, on purpose. I have come IN PERSON, you must be duly appreciative! Vladislav is too busy, and the matter is an important one. I wanted to see you at the earliest opportunity.
Well, we may all congratulate ourselves. Fate and fortune are decidedly on our side!" said the baroness, speaking rapidly, as she entered the count's study.
"What has happened? What is the news?" asked the count, going forward to meet her.
"We have learned that the Shadurskys have just received a large sum of money; they have sold an estate, and the purchaser has paid them in cash. Our opportunity has come. Heaven forbid that we should lose it! We must devise a plan to make the most of it."The baroness suddenly stopped short in the middle of the sentence, and became greatly confused, noticing that there was a third person present.
"Forgive me! I did not give you warning," said the count, shrugging his shoulders and smiling; "permit me! PRINCESS ANNACHECHEVINSKI!" he continued with emphasis, indicating his poor, decrepit sister. "Of course you would not have recognized her, baroness.""But I recognized Natasha immediately," said the old woman quietly, her eyes still fixed on Natasha's face.
The baroness suddenly turned as white as a sheet, and with trembling hands caught the back of a heavy armchair.
Kallash with extreme politeness assisted her to a seat.
"You didn't expect to meet me, Natasha?" said the old woman gently and almost caressingly, approaching her.
"I do not know you. Who are you?" the baroness managed to whisper, by a supreme effort.
"No wonder; I am so changed," replied Princess Anna. "But YOU are just the same. There is hardly any change at all."Natasha began to recover her composure.
"I don't understand you," she said coldly, contracting her brows.
"But I understand YOU perfectly."
"Allow me, princess," Kallash interrupted her, "permit me to have an explanation with the baroness; she and I know each other well.
And if you will pardon me, I shall ask you in the meantime to withdraw."And he courteously conducted his sister to the massive oak doors, which closed solidly after her.
"What does this mean?" said the baroness, rising angrily, her gray eyes flashing at the count from under her broad brows.
"A coincidence," answered Kallash, shrugging his shoulders with an ironical smile.
"How a coincidence? Speak clearly!"
"The former mistress has recognized her former maid--that is all.""How does this woman come to be here? Who is she?""I have told you already; Princess Anna Chechevinski. And as to how she came here, that was also a coincidence, and a strange one.""Impossible!" exclaimed the baroness.
