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head cleared. I was weak, but all the clouds had gone and I was fully conscious for the first time. Catching sight of myself in the mirror across the room, I saw that I was wearing another unfamiliar nightgown, pale yellow satin. My face was drawn, my coppery red hair damp with perspiration, and the sapphire blue eyes that gazed back at me were dark and disturbed. Staggering across the room, I found a large white bowl and a pitcher of water behind a worn blue silk screen. I washed my face as the sunlight grew stronger. The pigeon had flown away, but geese were honking in the courtyard below and a cow was lowing in a nearby pasture. As I emptied the last of the water into a bowl, I heard a vehicle of some sort entering the courtyard, harness jangling, wheels crunching noisily over the cobbles.
    "You're out of bed," the girl said.
    I turned. I hadn't heard her come into the room. She was wearing white this morning, the thin, long-sleeved frock embroidered with delicate blue and violet flowers, a blue satin sash around her slender waist. Although exquisite, the garment was foreign in style, unlike any I had ever seen. Her golden brown hair was neatly brushed, her young face lovely yet disturbed.
    "We must get you back into bed," she said. "You shouldn't be-"
    "I'm fine," I told her. My voice was crisper than I had intended it to be.
    "Perhaps-perhaps it's all right. The doctor said you should build your strength."
    "Is this your nightgown?"
    She nodded. "I'm smaller than you, not so tall, but the nightgowns are cut very full in Russia."
    "You're Russian?"
    "I'm Lucie Orlov. My uncle is Count Gregory Orlov."
    "I'm Marietta Danver," I said.
    " 'Marietta--it is a beautiful name. It suits you."
    "Why-thank you."
    "Do you remember the conversation we had a few days ago, Miss Danver?"
    "I-I vaguely remember you telling me about the-the accident. Ogilvy was killed and I was thrown clear and-"
    I paused, the horror sweeping over me again.
    "You were very fortunate," Lucie said. "The coach was demolished. You could have been killed yourself. We were very concerned about you. I'm so relieved to see you feeling better. I imagine you would like something to eat."
    "I would also like a bath and some proper clothes."
    "Your trunks are downstairs," she told me. "My uncle sent two of the men back for them after we brought you here to the inn. I'll have them brought up. Would you like to eat before or after your bath?"
    "I'll eat after."
    The girl nodded again and left the room. A few minutes later the door was opened and two strapping men came in carrying my trunks. Both wore high black boots and oddlooking blue velvet livery with thick silver braid at shoulders and chest, and both were well over six feet tall, the towering black fur hats atop their heads making them seem even taller. Faces broad-boned and sullen, muscles bulging beneath the velvet, they set the trunks down beneath the window and left the room without so much as glancing at me. I put another log on the fire and jabbed at it with the poker, still weak but feeling more clear-headed by the minute.
    The two men returned a short while later carrying a large white porcelain tub adorned with strangely shaped orange and blue flowers. The colors were extremely vivid, each petal outlined in gold. The tub obviously did not belong to the innkeeper, I thought, watching them set it down behind the shabby blue silk screen. Three more men, identically attired, as powerfully built and sullen, came with towels, soap, sponge and pails of water. None of them looked at me as the tub was filled, as towels, soap and sponge were arranged on the table. One ofthem said something in a rumbling, guttural voice, speaking in Russian, and then they all trooped out, the last one shutting the door.
    Count Orlov must be extremely wealthy to have so many servants, I mused as I removed' the yellow satin nightgown. The gold outlining the brilliant blue and orange flowers on the tub was genuine, I noted, and as I