After Her Highness and Miss West had dined with me at the "Metropole" at
Brighton on the following evening, the trusted old companion complained
of headache and drove home, leaving us alone together.
Therefore we strolled forth into the moonlit night and, crossing the
road, walked out along the pier. There were many persons in the hall of
the hotel, but though a good many heads were turned to see "Miss
Gottorp" pass in her pretty _decollete_ gown of black, trimmed with
narrow silver, over which was a black satin evening cloak, probably not
one noticed the undersized, insignificant, but rather well-dressed man
who rose from one of the easy chairs where he had been smoking to follow
us out.
Who, indeed, of that crowd would have guessed that the pretty girl by
whose side I walked was an Imperial Princess, or that the man who went
out so aimlessly was Oleg Lobko, the trusty agent of the Russian
Criminal Police charged by the Emperor with her personal protection?
With the man following at a respectable distance, we strolled side by
side upon the pier, looking back upon the fairy-like scene, the long
lines of light along King's Road, and the calm sea shimmering beneath
the clear moon. There were many people enjoying the cool, refreshing
breezes, as there always are upon an autumn night.
A comedy was in progress in the theatre at the pierhead, and it being
the _entr'acte_, many were promenading--mostly visitors taking their
late vacation by the sea.
My charming little companion had been bright and cheerful all the
evening, but had more than once, by clever questions, endeavoured to
learn what had taken me to the Embassy on the previous night. I,
however, did not deem it exactly advisable to alarm her unduly, either
by telling her of my defiance of General Markoff, of my discovery of
Danilo Danilovitch, or of the attempt to terrify me by the declaration
that another plot was in progress.
Truth to tell, Tack, before his return to Petersburg, had run
Danilovitch to earth in Lower Clapton, and two private detectives,
engaged by me, were keeping the closest surveillance upon him.
Twice had we circled the theatre at the pierhead, and had twice strolled
amid the seated audience around the bandstand where military music was
being played in the moonlight, when we passed two young men in Homburg
hats, wearing overcoats over their evening clothes. One of them, a
tall, slim, dark-haired, good-looking, athletic young fellow, of perhaps
twenty-two, raised his hat and smiled at my companion.
She nodded him a merry acknowledgment. Then, as we passed on, I
exclaimed quickly:
"Hulloa! Is that some new friend--eh?"
"Oh, it's really all right, Uncle Colin," she assured me. "I've done
nothing dreadful, now. You needn't start lecturing me, you know, or be
horrified at all."
"I'm not lecturing," I laughed. "I'm only consumed by curiosity.
That's all."
"Ah! You're like all men," she declared. "And suppose I refuse to
satisfy your curiosity--eh?"
"You won't do that, I think," was my reply, as we halted upon one of the
long benches which ran on either side of the pier. "Remember, I am
responsible to the Emperor for you, and I'm entitled to know who your
friend is."
"He's an awfully nice boy," was all she replied.
"He looks so. But who is he?"
"Somebody--well, somebody I knew at Eastbourne."
"And you've met him here? How long ago?"
"Oh! nearly a month."
"And so it is he whom you've met several times of late--eh?" I said.
"Let's see--according to the report furnished to me, you were out for
half an hour on the sea-front on Tuesday night; five minutes on
Wednesday night; not at all on Thursday night, and one whole hour on
Friday night--eh? And with a young man whose name is unknown."
"Oh, I'll tell you his name. He's Dick Drury."
"And who, pray, is this Mr Richard Drury?"
"A friend of mine, I tell you. The man with him is his friend--Lance
Ingram, a doctor."
"And what is this Mr Drury's profession?"
"He does nothing, I suppose," she laughed. "I can't well imagine Dick
doing much."
"Except flirting--eh?" I said with a smile.
"That's a matter of opinion," she replied, as we again rose and circled
the bandstand, for I was anxious to get another look at the pair.
On the evenings I had referred to, it appeared that Her Highness, after
dinner, had twisted a shawl over her head, and ran down to the
sea-front--a distance of a hundred yards or so--to get a breath of air,
as she had explained to Miss West. But on each occasion the watchful
police-agent had seen her meet by appointment this same young man.
Therefore some flirtation was certainly in progress--and flirtation had
been most distinctly forbidden.
My efforts were rewarded, for a few minutes later the two young men
repassed us, and this time young Drury did not raise his hat. He only
smiled at her in recognition.
"Where are they staying?" I asked.
"Oh you are so horribly inquisitive, Uncle Colin," she said. "Well, if
you really must know, they're staying at the `Royal York.'"
"How came you to know this young fellow at Eastbourne?" I asked. "I
thought you were kept in strictest seclusion from the outside world. At
least, you've always led me to believe that," I said.
She laughed heartily.
"Well, dear old uncle, surely you don't think that any school could
exactly keep a girl a prisoner. We used to get out sometimes alone for
an hour of an evening--by judicious bribery. I've had many a pleasant
hour's walk up the road towards Beachy Head. And, moreover, I wasn't
alone, either. Dick was usually with me."
"Really, this is too dreadful!" I exclaimed in pious horror. "Suppose
anyone had known who you really were!"
"Well, I suppose even if they had the heavens wouldn't have fallen," she
laughed.
"Ah!" I said, "you are really incorrigible. Here you are flirting with
an unsuspected lover."
"And why shouldn't I?" she asked in protest. "Dick is better than some
chance acquaintance."
"If you are only amusing yourself," I said. "But if you love him, then
it would be a serious matter."
"Oh, horribly serious, I know," she said impatiently. "If I were a
typist, or a shopgirl, or a waitress, or any girl who worked for her
living, I should be doing quite the correct thing; but for me--born of
the great Imperial Family--to merely look at a boy is quite
unpardonable."
I was silent for a few moments. The little madcap whom the Emperor had
placed in my charge, because her presence at Court was a menace to the
Imperial family, was surely unconventional and utterly incorrigible.
"I fear Your Highness does not fully appreciate the heavy
responsibilities of Imperial birth," I said in a tone of
dissatisfaction.
"Oh, bother! My birth be hanged!" she exclaimed, with more force than
politeness. "In these days it really counts for nothing. I was reading
it all in a German book last week. Every class seems to have its own
social laws, and what is forbidden to me is quite good form with my
dressmaker. Isn't it absurdly funny?"
"You must study your position."
"Why should I, if I strictly preserve my _incognito_? That I do this,
even you, Uncle Colin, will admit!"
"Are you quite certain that this Mr Drury is unaware who you really
are?" I asked.
"Quite. He believes me to be Miss Natalia Gottorp, my father German, my
mother English, and I was born in Germany. That is the story--does it
suit?"
"I trust you will take great care not to reveal your true identity," I
said.
"I have promised you, haven't I?"
"You promised me that you would not flirt, and yet here you are, having
clandestine meetings with this young man every evening!"
"Oh, that's very different. I can't help it if I meet an old friend
accidentally, can I?" she protested with a pretty pout.
At that moment we were strolling along the western side of the pierhead,
where it was comparatively ill-lit, on one side being the theatre, while
on the other the sea. The photographer's and other shops were closed at
that late hour, and the light being dim at that spot, several flirting
couples were passing up and down arm in arm.
Suddenly, as we turned the corner behind the theatre, we came face to
face with a dark-featured, middle-aged man, with deeply-furrowed brow,
narrowly set eyes and small black moustache. He wore a dark suit and a
hard felt hat, and had something of the appearance of a middle-class
paterfamilias out for his annual vacation.
He glanced quickly in our direction, and, I thought, started, as though
recognising one or other of us.
Then next moment he was lost in the darkness.
"Do you know that man?" asked my companion suddenly.
"No. Why?"
"I don't know," she answered. "I fancy I've seen him somewhere or other
before. He looked like a Russian."
That was just my own thought at that moment, and I wondered if Oleg, who
was lurking near, had noticed him.
"Yes," I said. "But I don't recollect ever having seen him before. I
wonder who he is? Let's turn back."
We did so, but though we hastened our steps, we did not find him. He
had, it seemed, already left the pier. Apparently he believed that he
had been recognised.
Once again we repassed Drury and his friend just as the theatre
disgorged its crowd of homeward-bound pleasure-seekers.
We were walking in the same direction, Oleg following at a respectable
distance, and I was enabled to obtain a good look at him, for, as though
in wonder as to whom I could be, he turned several times to eye me, with
some little indignation, I thought.
I judged him to be about twenty-five, over six feet in height, athletic
and wiry, with handsome, clear-cut, clean-shaven features and a pair of
sharp, dark, alert eyes, which told of an active outdoor life. His face
was a refined one, his gait easy and swinging, and both in dress and
manner he betrayed the gentleman.
Truth to tell, though I did not admit it to Natalia, I became very
favourably impressed by him. By his exterior he seemed to be a
well-set-up, sportsmanlike young fellow, who might, perhaps, belong to
one of the Sussex county families.
His friend the doctor was of quite a different type, a short,
fair-haired man in gold-rimmed spectacles, whose face was somewhat
unattractive, though it bore an expression of studiousness and
professional knowledge. He certainly had the appearance of a doctor.
But before I went farther I resolved to make searching inquiry unto the
antecedents of this mysterious Dick Drury.
The walk in the moonlight along the broad promenade towards Hove was
delightful. I begged Her Highness to drive, but she preferred to walk;
the autumn night was so perfect, she said.
As we strolled along, she suddenly exclaimed:
"I can't help recalling that man we saw on the pier. I remember now! I
met him about a week ago, when I was shopping in Western Road, and he
followed me for quite a distance. He was then much better dressed."
"You believe, then, he is a Russian?" I asked quickly.
"I feel certain he is."
"But you were not alone--Oleg was out with you, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes," she laughed. "He never leaves me. I only wish he would
sometimes. I hate to be spied upon like this. Either Dmitri or Oleg is
always with me."
"It is highly necessary," I declared. "Recollect the fate of your poor
father."
"But why should the revolutionists wish to harm me--a girl?" she asked.
"My own idea is that they're not half as black as they're painted."