Anna rarely entered her mistress’s room unbidden. But as she returned from the kitchen with tea, she had heard a voice from the bedroom.
It might have been the princess calling her, though it sounded too sharp and unnatural for that. Thinking immediately of the princess’s condition, she went straight to the door.
She pushed it open with one hand, still holding the tray balanced in the other.
No lamps had been lit in the room, and she could not immediately make sense of the perilous situation. She glanced first toward the bed. Finding it empty, she stepped farther inside. As her eyes began to adjust to the dim light, she discerned two figures, one standing, one kneeling on the floor midway between the bed and dressing table.
“Princess!” she exclaimed.
“Anna, get out of here this instant—” shouted Katrina, her momentary relief at hearing Anna’s voice overcome with dread for the danger to her maid. But it was too late.
“Shut up!” Basil yelled. “You . . . shut the door—quickly!” he barked at Anna, “or your princess will die this second!”
Anna obeyed, taking in the whole scene in one awful moment of realization. She remembered her brother’s warning, but hardly paused to wonder why Paul had failed to deliver his promised message.
“Oh, Princess!” exclaimed Anna.
“Anna, why did you have to come now—I am so sorry!”
“Quiet, both of you!” cried Basil, his mind spinning rapidly. This did complicate his plan. Now he would have to resort to the pistol he had tucked in his belt to get rid of the two of them at once.
A moment of tense silence ensued. At last Katrina’s voice broke it. “I . . . I think I am about to faint . . . Anna,” she said in a weak, breathless tone.
Without even considering what she was doing, Anna found herself moving toward them across the room.
“Stop where you are!” ordered Basil.
But Anna ignored him. She moved to Katrina’s side, knelt down, and set the tray on the floor.
“Get back on your feet, I tell you!” Basil shrieked.
“Can’t you see the princess is ill?” said Anna boldly, clutching the teapot and pouring out a cupful of the steaming liquid. “I’m only going to give her some tea to revive her.”
Suddenly finding himself on the defensive, Basil hesitated in the face of the lowly maid’s brash fearlessness. Within seconds Katrina was sipping from the steaming cup, and Anna was rising to her feet and backing away.
“Don’t move!” Basil yelled.
Anna stopped. But she had already taken several steps backward through the dim light toward the door. As she stopped, her hands behind her felt a cold, thin object leaning against the wall. Her fingers closed around it.
“Get on your feet!” Basil ordered Katrina. He clutched at her arm and yanked her upward. “Get over there with your fool of a maid while I decide how to kill the both of you!” He had been prepared to slit Katrina’s throat and be gone. But now he had two of them to contend with. Not that he harbored the slightest qualms about killing them both with either knife or gun. But doing so, and then effecting a successful escape, had suddenly become more complicated.
Basil’s predicament need not have concerned him, however. His final moment of indecision gave the captive women the opportunity they needed.
As Katrina struggled to her feet, with a sudden lurch, she turned and with a quick upward jerk emptied the hot tea directly into Basil’s face.
The same instant, Anna leaped forward, pulling Dmitri’s sabre from behind her back and raising the sheathed blade over her head as if it were her father’s sickle and the murderer before her was a stalk of grain. Even as he cried out from the scalding tea, Anna brought the sword crashing down onto Basil’s right shoulder.
He cried out in mingled shock and pain. But to Anna’s dismay his hand now went fumbling for the pistol. She lifted the heavy sword into the air again, but before she could bring it down, a cracking explosion from the gun shattered through the room. Basil had fired wildly in the darkness. The bullet found nothing but the wall opposite the door.
As Katrina screamed, Anna brought down the sword again in a second mighty blow. As she did, the sheath and belt flew off. The flat of the bare steel blade struck Basil’s right arm once more.
Katrina was standing now, and from her dressing table whisked a hair brush into her hand. It was hardly a weapon to be feared, but she would not let Anna do battle with the enemy alone! No assailant liked the idea of a two-front battle, and Basil leaped away and out of Katrina’s reach. But the momentary distraction of the brush and Katrina’s mounting fury was enough. Anna raised her weapon overhead.
Whack!
Down came the sword upon him again. Lighter now without the sheath, and her whole frame filled with the passionate energy of defending one she loved, Anna wielded the sabre with all the stout vigor of an ancient Scandinavian warrior. It crashed down upon him again, the flat of the blade stunning the strong man against the side of his head. Another blow came, followed by two or three more in rapid succession.
From where Katrina stood, Anna looked like a goddess of war doing battle in the night against the demon interloper. Again she struck with the righteous instrument of salvation, the sounds of battle mingled with cries of pain.
Again Basil tried to take aim with the pistol, this time directly toward Katrina. But a shriek of pain came from his mouth even as the deafening report of gunfire blasted again.
The sharpened edge of the sword smashed against his outstretched wrist. The shot went wild, the gun fell with a crash to the floor, and blood spurted from the deep, gashing wound.
Katrina leaped toward the gun, kicking it across the room, while Basil staggered backward, stunned and grabbing at his wrist in pain.
The battle belonged to the tigress of a servant girl!
Anna had raised the sword again above her head. Basil glanced upward, and seeing the blade poised to come full upon him, razor edge first, at last he apprehended his defeat. Already outside he could hear footsteps and voices and the tramp of heavy boots in the corridor.
He leaped backward onto the sill of the window, which still stood open from his entry.
“I’ll be back!” he screamed, then turned and jumped down to a ledge, and the next moment had disappeared into the rainy night.