Ten days had gone by. I had applied to Downing Street for leave of
absence, and was awaiting permission.
One afternoon I had again been commanded to private audience at the
Palace, and in uniform, had spent nearly two hours with the Emperor,
listening to certain confidential instructions which he had given me--
instructions for the fulfilment of a somewhat difficult task.
Twice during our chat I had referred to the case of my friends Madame
and Mademoiselle de Rosen, hoping that he would extend to them the
Imperial clemency, and by a stroke of that well-worn quill upon the big
writing-table recall them from that long and weary journey upon which
they had been sent.
But His Majesty, who was wearing the undress uniform of a general with a
single cross at his throat, uttered an expression of regret that I had
been friendly with them.
"In Russia, in these days, a foreigner should exercise the greatest
caution in choosing his friends," he said. "Only the day before
yesterday Markoff reported it was to those two women that the attempt in
the Nevski was entirely due. The others, thirty or so, were merely
tools of those clever women."
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, when I say that General Markoff lies," I
replied boldly.
"Enough! Our opinions differ, Trewinnard," he snapped, with a shrug of
his broad shoulders.
It was on the tip of my tongue to make a direct charge against his
favourite official, but what was the use when I held no actual proof.
Twice recently I had seen Natalia, but she refused to allow me sight of
the letters, telling me that she intended herself to show up the General
in her own way--and at her own time.
So the subject had dropped, for I saw that mention of it only aroused
the Emperor's displeasure. And surely the other matter which we were
discussing with closed doors was weighty enough.
At last His Majesty tossed his cigarette-end away, and, his jewelled
cross glittering at his throat, rose with outstretched hand, as sign
that my audience was at an end.
That eternal military band was playing in the grey courtyard below, and
the Emperor had slammed-to the window impatiently to keep out the sound.
He was in no mood for musical comedy that afternoon. Indeed, I knew
that the military music often irritated him, but Court etiquette--those
iron-bound, unwritten laws which even an Emperor cannot break--demanded
it. Those same laws decreed that no Emperor of Russia may travel
_incognito_, as do all other European sovereigns; that at dinner at the
Winter Palace there must always be eight guests; and that the service of
gold plate of Catherine the Great must always be used. At the Russian
Court there are a thousand such laws, the breach of a single one being
an unpardonable offence, even in the case of the autocratic ruler
himself.
"Then you understand my wishes--eh, Trewinnard?" His Majesty said at
last in English, gripping my hand warmly.
"Perfectly, Sire."
"I need not impress upon you the need for absolute and entire
discretion. I trust you implicitly."
"I hope Your Majesty's trust will never be betrayed," I answered
fervently, bowing over the strong outstretched hand.
And then, backing out of the door, I bowed and withdrew.
Through the long corridor with its soft red carpet I went, passing
Calitzine, a short, dark man in funereal black, the Emperor's private
secretary, to whom I passed the time of day.
Then, reaching the grand staircase with its wonderful marble and gold
balustrades and great chandeliers of crystal, I descended to the huge
hall, where the echoes were constantly aroused by hurrying footsteps of
ministers, officials, chamberlains, courtiers and servants--all of them
sycophants.
The two gigantic sentries at the foot of the stairs held their rifles at
the salute as I passed between them, when of a sudden I caught sight of
the Grand Duchess Natalia in a pretty summer gown of pale-blue, standing
with a tall, full-bearded elderly man in the brilliant uniform of the
15th Regiment of Grenadiers of Tiflis, of which he was chief, and
wearing many decorations. It was her father, the Grand Duke Nicholas.
"Why, here's old Uncle Colin!" cried my incorrigible little friend in
pleased surprise. "Have you been up with the Emperor?"
I replied in the affirmative, and, bowing, greeted His Imperial
Highness, her father, with whom I had long been on friendly terms.
"Where are you going?" asked the vivacious young lady quickly as she
rebuttoned her long white glove, for they had, it seemed, been on a
visit to the Empress.
"I have to go to the opening of the new wing of the Naval Hospital," I
said. "And I haven't much time to spare."
"We are going there, too. I have to perform the opening ceremony in
place of the Emperor," replied the Grand Duke. "So drive with us."
"That's it, Uncle Colin!" exclaimed his daughter. "Come out for an
airing. It's a beautiful afternoon."
So we went forth into the great courtyard, where one of the Imperial
state carriages, an open one, was in waiting, drawn by four fine,
long-tailed Caucasian horses.
Behind it was a troop of mounted Cossacks to act as escort.
We entered, and the instant the bare-headed flunkeys had closed the door
the horses started off, and we swung out of the handsome gateway into
the wide Place, in the centre of which stood the grey column of Peter
the Great.
Turning to the left we went past the Alexander Gardens, now parched and
dusty with summer heat, and skirted the long facade of the War Office.
"I wonder what tales you've been telling the Emperor about me, Uncle
Colin?" asked the impudent little lady, laughing as we drove along, I
being seated opposite the Grand Duke and his daughter.
"About you?" I echoed with a smile. "Oh, nothing, I assure you--or, at
least, nothing that was not nice."
"You're a dear, I know," declared the girl, her father laughing amusedly
the while. "But you are so dreadfully proper. You're worse about
etiquette than father is--and he's simply horrid. He won't ever let me
go out shopping alone, and I'm surely old enough to do that!"
"You're quite old enough to get into mischief, Tattie," replied her
father, speaking in French.
"I love mischief. That's the worst of it," and she pouted prettily.
"Yes, quite true--the worst of it, for me," declared His Imperial
Highness. "I thought that when you went to school in England they would
teach you manners."
"Ordinary manners are not Court manners," the girl argued, trying to
rebutton one of her gloves which had come unfastened.
"Let me do it," I suggested, and quickly fastened it.
"Thank you," she laughed with mock dignity. "How charming it is to have
such a polished diplomat as Mr Colin Trewinnard to do nice things for
one. Now, isn't that a pretty speech? I suppose I ought to study smart
things to say, and practise them on the dog--as father does sometimes."
"Really, Tattie, you forget yourself, my dear," exclaimed her father,
with distinct disapproval.
"Well, that's nothing," declared my charming little companion. "Don't
parsons practise preaching their sermons, and lawyers and statesmen
practise their clever untruths? You can't expect a woman's mouth to be
full of sugar-plums of speech, can you?"
My eyes met those of the Grand Duke, and we both burst out laughing at
the girl's quaint philosophy.
"Why, even the Emperor has his speeches composed and written for him by
silly old Calitzine," she went on. "And at Astrakhan the other day I
composed a most telling and patriotic speech for His Majesty, which he
delivered when addressing the officers of the Army of the Volga. I sat
on my horse and listened. The old generals and colonels, and all the
rest of them, applauded vociferously, and the men threw their caps in
the air. I wonder if they would have done this had they known that I
had written those well-turned patriotic sentences, I--a mere chit of a
girl, as father sometimes tells me!"
"And the terror of the Imperial family," I ventured to add.
"Thank you for your compliment. Uncle Colin," she laughed. "I know
father endorses your sentiments. I see it in his face."
"Oh, do try and be serious, Tattie," he urged. "See all those people!
Salute them, and don't laugh so vulgarly." And he raised his
white-gloved hand to his shining helmet in recognition of the shouts of
welcome rising from those assembled along our route.
Whereat she bowed gracefully again with that slight and rather frigid
smile which she had been taught to assume on public occasions.
"If I put up my sunshade they won't see me, and it will avoid such a lot
of trouble," she exclaimed suddenly, and she put up her pretty parasol,
which matched her gown and softened the light upon her pretty face.
"Oh, no, Uncle Colin!" she exclaimed suddenly, as we turned the corner
into the Yosnesenskaya, a long, straight street where the throng,
becoming greater, was kept back by lines of police in their grey coats,
peaked caps and revolvers. "I know what you are thinking. But it isn't
so. I'm not in the least afraid of spoiling my complexion."
"Then perhaps it is a pity you are not," I replied. "Complexions, like
all shining things, tarnish quickly."
"Just like reputations, I suppose," she remarked, whereupon her father
could not restrain another laugh.
Then again, at word in an undertone from the Grand Duke, both he and his
daughter saluted the crowd, our horses galloping, as they always do in
Russia, and our Cossack-escort clattering behind.
There were a good many people just at this point, for it was believed
that the Emperor would pass on his way to perform the opening ceremony,
and his loyal subjects were waiting to cheer him.
On every hand, the people, recognising the popular Grand Duke and his
daughter, set up hurrahs, and while His Imperial Highness saluted, his
pretty daughter, the most admired girl in Russia, bowed, and I, in
accordance with etiquette, made no sign of acknowledgment.
As we came to the narrow bridge which spans the canal, the road was
flanked on the left by the Alexander Market, and here was another huge
crowd.
Loud shouts of welcome in Russian broke forth from those assembled, for
the Grand Duke and his daughter were everywhere greeted most warmly.
But as we passed the market, the police keeping back the crowd, I saw a
thin, middle-aged man in dark clothes lift his hand high above his head.
Something came in our direction, yet before I had time to realise his
action a blood-red flash blinded me, my ears were deafened by a terrific
report, a hot, scorching breath swept across my face, and I felt myself
hurled far into space amid the mass of falling debris.
It all occurred in a single instant, and I knew no more. I had a
distinct feeling that some terrific explosion had knocked the breath
clean out of my body. I recollect seeing the carriage rent into a
thousand fragments just at the same instant that black unconsciousness
fell upon me.