Still all curiosity to
hear further details on the ingenious piece of espionage against my own
nation, I took off my shoes and crept up to a spot where I could crouch
concealed and overhear their conversation, for the Italian night was
calm and still. They talked mainly about affairs in Finland, and with
some of Oberg's expressions of opinion Polovstoff ventured to differ.
This aroused the Baron's anger, and I knew from the cold sarcasm of his
remarks, and the peculiarly hard tone of his voice, that he was more
incensed than he outwardly showed himself to be. He rose and stood with
his back to the bulwarks facing his friend, who still sat leaning back
in his deck-chair insisting upon his own views. He was quite calm, and
not in the least perturbed by the evil glint in the Baron's eye. Perhaps
he did not know him so well as I did. He did not know what that look
meant. Suddenly, while the Privy-Councillor lay back in his chair
pulling thoughtfully at his cigar, there was a bright, blood-red flash,
a dull report, and a man's short agonized cry.
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