will bring it to you in less than an hour, I promise you that I will--"

"But how? Oh, Vjera--I am in such trouble that I could almost bring myself
to borrow it of you if you could lend it--I despise myself, but it is
growing so late, and it will only be until to-morrow, only for a few hours
perhaps. If you will wait to-night I may bring it to you before bedtime.
But--are you sure, Vjera? Have you really got it? If I should wait
here--and you should not find it--and my word should be broken--"

"For your word I give you mine. You shall have it in an hour." She tried
to throw so much certainty into her tone as might persuade him, and she
succeeded. "Where will you wait for me? In the shop?" she asked.

"No--not there. In the Café here--I am tired--I will sit down and drink a
cup of coffee. I think I have a little money--enough for that." He smiled
faintly as he felt in his pockets. Then his face fell. On the previous
evening, when they had led him away from the eating-house, he had
carelessly given all he had--a mark and two pennies--to pay for his
supper, throwing it to the fat hostess without any reckoning, as he went
out. "Never mind," he said, after the fruitless search. "I will wait
outside."

But Vjera thrust a silver piece into his hand and was gone before he could
protest. And in this way she took upon herself the burden of the Count's
debt of honour.




CHAPTER X.