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"I may be quite some time," I informed him. "Come back for me in-oh, an hour and a half."

Vladimir looked at me with hostile eyes. "The carriage waits for you here in front ofthe shop," he said, curling his lip. "I go in with you."

"That won't be necessary."

"I know my duties."

"I'm sure you do," I replied. I adjusted the folds of the ermine cloak. "Your duties are to accompany me and protect me. I seriously doubt I'll encounter much danger inside Maitlev's."

. "All the same-"

"I won't have you coming in with me," I said sharply.

"You'll frighten the customers with that scowl of yours.

You may stand guard outside the door if you wish, and if any villainous brute with a knife or a gun tries to get past you, you have my permission to break his neck."

He looked as though he would prefer breaking mine, but he made no further effort to follow me. A bell tinkled pleasantly overhead as I opened the door and stepped inside. I found the splendor of the place impressive and just a little intimidating, as it was meant to be. Pale beige silk embossed with gold
fleurs-de-lis
covered the walls. A plush dark gold carpet was spread over the parquet floor, and two stunning crystal chandeliers hung from an ornately molded cream ceiling. All this was mere background for the jewels that shimmered and flashed in the elegant glass cases and on inventive display stands. Diamond and sapphire bracelets dangled from the spreading branches of a white artificial tree. Emerald pendants were suspended from the branches of another. The atmosphere was rarefied, redolent of immense luxury.

Several grandly attired customers browsed leisurely among the cases, including a handsome blond guardsman in gold-trimmed white velvet uniform. He obviously be-

.. longed to the middle-aged woman with the sharp, painted face and preposterously elaborate coiffure. Guardsmen were quite the thing among ladies of the court, I understood.

They were easier to manage than lapdogs and more entertaining. This particular specimen lounged idly against one of the cases as his mistress picked out a silver and gold pocket watch for him. Less dear than a jeweled collar, I thought, aware that I was the object of a number of stares. Everyone knew who I was, it seemed. My reputation preceded me, or was it in hot pursuit?

An attractive young clerk started toward me. He was forcibly restrained by a tall, extremely thin man in brown velvet breeches and frock coat, creamy beige lace spilling from his wrists and throat. Maitlev himself I decided as he smiled obsequiously and hurried over to assist me. His thin gold hair was plastered back over his bony skull. His bright gray eyes seemed to be adding up profits. The fawning smile never left his lips, even when he spoke.

"Miss Danver!" he exclaimed. "This is an honor indeed!"

I nodded coolly, not at
all
surprised that he knew my name.

"You needn't have bothered coming to the shop," he continued.

"I would have been only too pleased to bring a selection of my best pieces to the Marble Palace."

"How kind you are."

"I frequently do that with some of my-uh-more exalted customers," he confided. "How many times have I carried my cases to the Winter Palace? Our dear Empress rarely buys from anyone else. I suppose you've come to pick out something to go with the necklace."

"Necklace?"

"Dear me! Don't tell me I've spoiled a little surprise!

Please, I beg of you, forget I said a word. Count Orlov would strangle me if he found out I'd been indiscreet."

The man obviously loved to babble about his important customers and the purchases they made. Half of St.

Petersburg probably already knew about "the little surprise" that Gregory planned for me.

"I've come to buy something for Tuesday night," I said frostily. "I'll just browse awhile if you don't mind."

"Of course! Of course!"

He didn't actually bow and click his heels, but it seemed that way. He trailed a few paces behind me as I examined the contents of the cases with a bored, dissatisfied expression, clearly finding nothing that pleased me. The other women in the shop continued to watch me with open fascination.

Two whispered behind their fans. My new notoriety made me rather uncomfortable, but I was being extremely well paid for it. The handsome blond guardsman gave me a practiced smile and looked at me with eyes that asked if I were in the market for a new pet. His present owner grabbed his arm, thrust a wad of money at the clerk and marched her prize out of the shop, convinced I was about to steal him. Having made a quick inspection of the cases, I turned to Maitlev in disgust.

"I see nothing here I like," I said tartly.

"But Miss Danver-"

"You obviously keep your best pieces in the back."

"I have a few pieces there, it's true, but-"

"Would you care to show them to me?"

Crushed, he hesitated. I tapped my foot impatiently. He finally asked me to follow him, explaining unhappily that his choice items were on display and I would be disappointed in the trinkets he kept in back. We walked down a narrow hall, passed a small office and finally stepped into a large, cluttered room that was surprisingly dusty and obviously not open to the public. The jewelry in cases back here, though fabulous, was distinctly inferior to that in front, bracelets and necklaces scattered carelessly on pieces of black velvet.

Maitlev was flustered. "As you can see-" he began.

"Where does that door lead?" I interrupted, pointing.

"It leads into an alleyway," he informed me. "That's why it's bolted. I'm sure if you would let me help you, Miss Danver, we could find something that would-"

"I'm sorry to keep interrupting you, Mr. Maitlev, butwell, I have to let you in on my secret."

"Secret? I don't quite-"

"I asked you to bring me back here for a specific reason.

I'm going to ask you to unbolt that door now. I-I have to leave for a short while, and my driver and the men who accompanied

me mustn't know."

"You're going to walk down that alley!" He was horrified.

"Mr. Maitlev, I-I'm planning to buy a new frock coat for Count Orlov. It's terribly grand, gold cloth, embroidered with silver and black. He insisted I take his carriage this afternoon, and if! had gone directly to the tailor's one of his men might have mentioned it and--and spoiled my surprise."

"I see," he said glumly.

"The tailor is expecting me. He'll be waiting at the end of the alley. After I inspect the coat and pay for it, I'll come back here. I would like for you to remain in this room until I return so that none of the customers will suspect I'm not examining jewelry. People
do
talk, I've discovered."

Maitlev had the grace to blush. He was very distressed.

"I'm sure
you
won't," I continued sweetly, "because if a single word of this got out I would have to tell Count Orlov that you spoiled
his
little surprise. I would also have to tell him you were insolent to me and called me a very ugly name."

"Miss Danver!"

"So I'm sure you'll be happy to stay back here until I return and never breathe a word of this."

"Not even under torture," he promised shakily.

"When I return, we'll go out front and I'll make a lavish purchase and everyone will be content. Would you unbolt the door, please?"

He almost stumbled over his own feet getting to the door. He slid the heavy bolt back, fumbled with a key and unlocked a steel lock. I gave him a charming smile as I moved past him into the alley. I thought I heard a sob as he pulled the door shut.

The alley was narrow and dark and very, very dirty, littered with filth and rubbish. The splendor of St. Petersburg did not extend to these dark corners and alleyways, I observed. Like every city, it had its squalid underside. I was startled to see an old woman in ragged brown dress and kerchief digging among the rubbish behind one of the shops. She was as startled as I was, backing against the damp brick wall as though she feared I might attack her. A rat scurried out from under the pile of refuse. I stopped, momentarily forgetting my mission, forgetting everything but that look of terror in the woman's eyes.

"Please-cdon't-sdcn't be frightened," I said.

My Russian was still not perfect, and I couldn't be sure she understood me. She was flattened against the wall, her frail arms held in front of her as though to ward off a blow.

I reached into the inner pocket of the ermine cloak, relieved to find the bag of gold coins I usually carried when I went shopping with Lucie.T pulled it out.

"I - I have some money here. Please take it."

The fear left her eyes then, replaced by blazing contempt'

and hatred so strong it shook me to the core. She drew herself up, curiously dignified in her rags. I moved toward her, holding out the bag of coins.

"Please," I said.

The dark brown eyes continued to blaze. She moved her mouth, her lips clamped shut. I thought she was going to say something, and I waited expectantly. With a loud, hissing sound she spat at me, the spittle spewing in a stream that barely missed me. Too stunned to react for a moment, I stared at her. She believed I was an aristocrat, and I tried to imagine the years of grief and hardship and brutal oppression that had caused her to hate all aristocrats, even one who offered her relief from some of her pain. I hesitated for another moment, and then I tossed the bag of coins at her feet and moved quickly on down the alley.

I saw Vanya as soon as I came out onto the side street leading off the Nevsky Prospekt. He was standing beside a nondescript brown carriage, worried and impatient. When he saw me, he scowled, hurried toward me and hustled me roughly to the carriage. I was still shaken from my encounter with the old woman as he opened the door and shoved me into the carriage. I removed the ermine cloak and put on the heavy blue wool cloak he handed me, pulling the

~ hood up over my head. Vanya tapped the roof with his fist, and the carriage began to move.

"This driver will not say anything," he told me. "I give him two gold coins, Vanya is very angry with you!"

"Angry? I -"

"You do not tell me you come down the alley. You tell me only that you will slip away from the shop and meet me on this street. The alleys of this city are not safe! It is very foolhardy of you to take this risk."

"I –I met an old woman, Vanya."

He stiffened. "She attempts to harm you?"

"No, but->"

I told him what had happened, Vanya listened with a fierce expression as the carriage turned down another street, rumbled over a bridge. We were passing a park as I finished. Vanya stared out at the ice-encrusted trees, silent, sullen, still angry with me.

"I only wanted to help her," I said.

"Yes, this is because you are not like the other women who go to shops like Maitlev's. These other women, they are not evil, but they do not want to think of the people.

They think only of their own pleasure and are blind to the suffering around them."

"The poor woman was starving-"

"Many people starve all over Russia, even in this fine city built upon the bones of the workers."

"You-you sound bitter, Vanya."

"This is so. I see these bad things and I know I can do nothing about them. I know that but for the grace of God Vanya might be one of these people who starve. Vanya is strong. He decides at a very young age he is not going to starve."

"So you became a cossack."

"I leave my village. I join the army. I learn to ride, to shoot and use the sabre. I am ambitious. I go far. Eventually I am able to become one of Count Orlov's men and I have plenty to eat, warm clothes to wear,a warm place to sleep."

"But
you
don't hate all aristocrats."

"Vanya is very loyal, very grateful. He does not waste time on hatred which does no good."

He fell silent again, brooding. He would protect Lucie or me to the death under any circumstances, I knew, but if the peasant rebellion everyone feared actually broke out I felt his sympathies would be with the people, as, indeed, would mine. The encounter with the old woman had merely underlined the flagrant inequalities I had seen in Russia. I tried to put it out of my mind as we passed a spacious square with marble fountains and, a few minutes later, turned into the courtyard of the British embassy.

"I should only be a few minutes," I said, opening the carriage door. "You needn't come in with me, Vanya. We're on British soil now."

"Vanya will wait."

I climbed out and closed the door and pulled the heavy blue wool cloak closer about me, moving quickly across the courtyard and up the flat marble steps. The huge reception hall had marble floor and walls, but there was a snug, cozy atmosphere nevertheless. There were potted plants in profusion, comfortable rugs on the floor, and the furniture, while certainly not shabby, lacked any hint of showy ostentation.

A large British flag hung on the wall behind the reception counter. A very slender, rather officious-looking young clerk in brown broadcloth and wire-rimmed spectacles shuffled some papers and stood up.

"May I help you?" he asked.

It was lovely to hear English again, even ifit was spoken with a decidedly affected accent.

"I would like to speak to Bryan Lloyd," I said. "I believe he's staying here with his father."

The clerk looked surprised. He hesitated a moment and then asked me to wait, disappearing through one of the doors behind him. The embassy was immense, and one had a feeling of buzzing activity behind those marble walls.

The upper floors, I knew, were devoted to living quarters for the staff and British citizens who were visiting or in need of a place to stay until they could leave Russia. Bryan had his own bedroom and sitting room beneath the attics.

After what seemed a very long time, the clerk returned, but Bryan was not with him. The man who came in a few seconds later was as tall, as bony and loose-limbed, and had Bryan's same fine blue-gray eyes.. The hair, thick and wavy, was a luxuriant silver-gray, and the lean face was handsomely lined, a serious face full of character. Its expression was solemn and disapproving as he approached