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“It does not affect the gravity of the papers I hold here,” and Boreski tapped them slowly with his long white fingers.

For the life of me I couldn’t see a way out of the maze. Had I been really the Emperor, I might have done it by sending instructions to old Kalkov to pay the million roubles; then by writing a fresh consent to the marriage I could have secured the papers, and so have made an end of the thing.

But I felt that Kalkov would only laugh at such a request from me, while of course I could not write a single word without the discrepancy of the handwriting being at once apparent.

I was loth to go back and admit my failure; but this I saw at length was the only resource. Every moment that I hesitated made the affair worse, so I put as bold a front on matters as I could and got up.

“This new admission of yours, M. Boreski,” I said with an assumption of dignity, “is so serious as to require consideration. Be good enough to have a carriage brought for me at once. The interview is at an end.”