Her face went like death, and for a second she leant against the parapet
as if she were going to faint.
"Paul," she gasped with white lips, "this is Dmitry's pistol. I know it
well. How did you come by it?--tell me, beloved. If he gave it to you,
then it means danger, Paul--danger--"
"My darling," said Paul, in his strong young pride "fear nothing, I shall
never leave you. I will protect you from any danger in the world, only
depend upon me, sweetheart. Nothing can hurt you while I am here."
"Do you think I care a _sou_ for my life?" she said, while she stood
straight up again with the majesty of a queen. "Do you think I feared for
me--for myself? Oh! no, my own lover, never that! They can kill me when
they choose, but they won't; it is you for whom I fear. Only your danger
could make me cower, no other in the whole world."
Paul laughed with joy at her speech. "There is nothing to fear at all
then, darling," he said. "I can take care of myself, you know. I am an
Englishman."
And even in the tumult of her thoughts the lady found time to smile with
tender amusement at the young insular arrogance of his last words. An
Englishman, forsooth! Of course that meant a kind of god untouched by the
failings of other nations. A great rush of pride in him came over her and
gladdened her.
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