COILS THAT NO MAN COULD BREAK.
Poor Olga! I shall not easily forget the effect the news had on her.
I went out from the interview impregnated with the conviction that I
was now indeed hopelessly baffled. I saw how completely the whole
position had been changed. The very axis had shifted. And the
knowledge that I had to make Olga understand it all before she left
Russia was more unpalatable and depressing than I can describe.
Up to the present moment there had indeed been the slight off-chance
that we should both escape, and the knowledge that if we could only do
so, we might find happiness in another country. But that hope was as
dead as a coffin nail. I was bound to Moscow by a shackle more
powerful than iron fetters. I had pledged myself not to attempt to go
until the Prince himself had given me permission; and I knew that he
would never think of doing this until the duel had been in some way
arranged. On the other hand the Nihilist attack on the Emperor was to
be made in two days' time. If it succeeded an ignominious death at the
hands of the law could be the only result for me; while if it failed,
death was almost as certain at the hands of the Nihilists who would
adjudge me their betrayer.
Between the upper and nether millstones I was helpless; certain only of
being crushed by them. Thus nothing could make me believe that I
should ever again set eyes on the woman whose release I had thus
secured and whom I now loved with all my heart.
Nor could I part from her without allowing her to see something of this.
She was indeed so quick to appreciate the meaning of what I told her,
that all the sweet pleasure and gladness she shewed when welcoming me
changed in a moment to sadness.
"I would ten thousand times rather not go," she said. "I do not care
what they do to me. I have brought you into this, and it is me they
should punish," she said more than once.
"But you can't do what this man wants, Olga," said I with a smile, to
reassure her. "If you could, he would probably let me go and hold on
to you. If I couldn't, he would hold on to us both. But you must go
for this reason. You must find Balestier and tell him to come here.
He must stop making a fuss about Hamylton Tregethner, and just come on
here and see me and let us try together to find out some solution of
the puzzle. But he must hold his tongue unless talking to the right
pair of ears."
"I shall know no rest till I find him," replied Olga instantly. "And
if I do not, I shall come back here. I will not leave you like this."
I kissed her; but did not tell her that so far as I was concerned her
return would be useless, for the cogent reason that I should not be
alive. It was impossible that I could survive by many hours the
Imperial visit. This I kept from her, however, for the farewell was
already more than sufficiently sad and trying; and I doubt if any
consideration on earth would have induced her to leave if she had
really known how imminent was my danger.
I talked much indeed of the help Balestier might be able to render, and
thus impressed on her strongly the need for her to find him, however
long it might take her. This giving her a task and connecting it with
the work of helping me, kept her hope alive and tended to reconcile her
to the parting, so that in the end she shook off much of her
depression. I could see also she was battling with her feelings to
distress me as little as possible.
I loved her the more as I saw this, but the parting was such pain for
us both, that I was glad when it was over. I stood and watched the
train steam out of the station and saw her leaning from the carriage
window to catch the last glimpse of me. And I was sad indeed, as I
turned away with a positively choking sense of loneliness such as I had
never felt before in all my life.
The departure of my brave little sister, clever-witted counsellor, and
dearest companion seemed to leave such a void in my life that in the
first hours which followed her departure I mourned for her as one
grieves for the dead. And in truth she was dead to me.
But the events of the day following left me little time for meditation.
It was Sunday and a day of brisk action. Early in the morning there
were special regimental duties; and on my return to my rooms for
breakfast I found waiting for me a stranger, whose card, given to my
servant, described him as "J. W. Junker, St Petersburg Gazette."
He rose at my entrance and said in a very pleasant voice:--
"Excuse a journalist's liberty in coming to you. I am the special
correspondent of the St Petersburg Gazette and have come to do the
Czar's visit, and I should very much like a word with you on the
matter."
"I don't see where I can be of any help, but if there's anything I can
tell you, fire away," I said. "I've had a couple of hours' drill this
morning, however, and I have to be on the parade ground in less than an
hour, so you must excuse me if I have my breakfast while we chat. But
perhaps you'll join me?"
"With the greatest pleasure," and down he sat, and while the servant
was in the room for the first few minutes, he chatted away like the
bright and pleasant fellow he appeared to be. But as soon as my man
had left the room, his manner changed suddenly and his voice took a
direct earnest tone that made me look at him in some astonishment.
"Don't have that fellow back again. Is it all acting, or don't you
really recognise me? I knew you in a moment."
"Did you? Well, I certainly don't know you. I never met a
journalist----" He broke in with a short laugh and waved his hand with
a quick gesture of imperative impatience as he stared at me hard. His
manner annoyed me.
"Well, if you're not what you said you were, what the devil are you
doing here? What do you want?" I felt like pitching him out of the
place.
"Didn't you expect me?"
"Expect you? No; how should I?"
"Instructions were sent to prepare you."
"I can only say I haven't the ghost of a notion what you want."
"To complete the arrangements for to-morrow's glorious event," and his
face lighted with a momentary enthusiasm.
"How am I to know you?" I asked, suspiciously.
"I am Gorvas Lassthum; and I saw you twelve months ago when the other
plan was laid, as you will remember, and failed. Your memory is
treacherous, my friend."
"There are some things I train it to forget," I answered, equivocally.
I was in a fix. I guessed the man was a Nihilist agent, of course, and
his air of self-importance suggested that he was high up in the
leadership. But on the other hand Moscow was at the moment swarming
with spies of all kinds; and this might be one. I assumed an air of
extreme caution therefore, and after a flash of thought added: "And
some that I prefer not to know at all. It pleases me now to hold that
from my side you and I are strangers. You know me well; say then just
what you wish to say. I on my side don't know you, and prefer to say
nothing."
"Good," he cried; and reaching out offered me his hand and when I gave
him mine, he pressed it and said earnestly:--"Would God we had more men
like you--so ready in act and so cautious in word."
I bowed and made no other sign.
"You have the orders for the disposition of the troops to-morrow, and
at the last minute the whole of them, or the most of them, will be
changed. You yourself will be detailed to guard that part of the line
which runs over the flat stretch by the river on the further side of
the Vsatesk station. Guard it well; for a greater life than that of
the Emperor depends on your vigilance--the life of the People."
As he said this another of those little flashes of light that seemed to
transform him from a pleasant man of the world into an enthusiast leapt
into his eyes. A pause followed in which I said nothing.
"Your orders will be to station your men at set distances on either
side of the line--it being an easy place to guard--and you will have
some three miles of the line under your command. It is good. Now,
take thought. At one point in about the centre of your section, the
land dips and the line is embanked to a height of some ten feet, for a
length of about half a mile. At that spot there are four alder
trees--three to the left of the line, and one to the right. These
three form an irregular triangle, one side of which is much shorter
than the others; and if you follow the short line which those two trees
make, you will find that they form a comparatively straight line with
the fourth tree on the other side of the railway embankment. Do you
follow me?"
He made a rough model on the table-cloth, using some of the breakfast
things for the purpose of shewing the positions of the railway and the
trees.
"No one can mistake that," I said.
"Well, you are to take up your position here, you yourself, I mean,
here, in a dead straight line between these two trees"--demonstrating
them on the table-cloth--"for this is where there will be an accident.
And now, pay close heed to this. You will go out by train; and when
your men are paraded at the station they will be joined by five of
ours. These will mingle with yours at the very last moment; and if any
questions are asked they will produce the necessary authority. These
five men you will arrange carefully to take the next five positions to
you on your right hand. When the train leaves the line, they will
instantly close round and guard the Emperor's carriage; and you will
see that nothing prevents them. That is all you have to do; and if you
act discreetly you will run no risk. You will not fail. They know
their duties and will do them; and will let no one come between them
and their noble task. Five bolder men do not breathe in all Russia.
Remember, they are to be stationed next to you on your right. You
understand?"
"Every item."
"It is a great day for you, friend," he said.
"It is a great day for Russia," I returned; and soon after he left me.
I was filled with the most anxious doubt as to what course I ought to
take to checkmate this horrible plot, of which I was the most unwilling
depository and was marked out as the forced agent.
During the whole day I was turning the problem over and over in my
thoughts: and I could see no course that would be at all effective in
thwarting the plot without at the same time exposing myself to all the
hazard of being punished as a Nihilist. I could, of course, tell the
police or Prince Bilbassoff, but this meant a double danger for me.
They would take measures to alter the arrangements as to the visit; the
reason for this would have to be told to the Czar; it would certainly
leak out to the Nihilists, and I should be a mark for their assassins
at once. On the other hand the story told by Paula Tueski would seem
to have the corroboration which my acquaintance with Nihilist matters
would give to it, and I should be in peril there.
One consideration there was that gave some reassurance. I had already
had the orders for the distribution of the troops, and I knew that I
was to be miles away from those cursed alder trees at the moment when
the Czar would be passing. I knew too that if the plot went wrong in
that main feature, it would fail altogether.
The Nihilists were not such fools as to draw down on themselves all the
sensational punishments which would inevitably follow the discovery of
an organised attempt on the life of the Czar, for the mere empty
purpose of sending the Imperial train off the line. Unless therefore,
they had some emissary so highly placed as to be in possession of the
information long before any of us in Moscow knew about it, the whole
machinery was likely to be stopped for the one flaw. And though I had
had some proofs of the extraordinary accuracy of their information, I
could not believe their power to be such as this necessitated.
But in the afternoon, when according to arrangement I went again to the
Prince Bilbassoff, startling news awaited me, that redoubled all these
doubts and difficulties, and set them buzzing and rushing through my
brain, threatening to muddle my wits altogether.
There was a distinct change in the manner of his reception of me, and
it pleased me to set this down to the fact that his opinion of me was
raised by the knowledge that the black past of Alexis Petrovitch was
mine only by adoption, and that in reality I had the clean antecedents
of an English gentleman.
"I can't give you more than a few minutes," he said, "and I must
therefore squeeze as much as possible into them. I have taken your
suggestion and have wired to London to find out about you. The result
is what I am bound to say I hoped; and the consequences are I am going
to trust you."
"That's as you please," said I, quietly.
"It does please me, because I don't want this duel to fall through.
Now you want some cause for fighting that will satisfy your honour.
Will you fight this man if he insults you?"
"I'll fight any man who does that," I replied.
"Now, whose officer are you?"
"The Czar's, while I am in Russia."
"Will you risk your life in his service?"
"My sword is absolutely at his service."
"If you should hear His Majesty insulted in your presence would you
face the man who did it?"
"As surely as effect follows cause."
"Then this man's whole life is an insult to the Czar."
"In what way?"
"He is a Nihilist to his finger-tips. His presence near the throne is
a standing menace to the Emperor; his hand is ever raised to seek his
Majesty's life; and his whole life is that of a traitor who learns the
highest secrets only to betray them to these enemies of God and the
Emperor."
"What proof have you?" I asked in the profoundest astonishment. I
began to see now how the most secret information leaked out.
"None, boy. Or do you think he would be where he is for an hour?"
"Then how do you know it?"
"If a secret is known to three people, two of whom you know to be as
staunch as steel, and yet it gets out--how do you think it happens? If
this happens not only once but two or three times, what do you think of
the man? This man is a traitor; and as surely as there is a God in
Heaven, the Crown is not firmly on my master's head while the man
remains alive. Now, will you fight him?"
"The matter is a public, not personal, one: Russian not English. My
sword is not a bravo's to be hired for that sort of work."
He swore a deep oath under his breath at this, and then changed it to a
laugh with an ugly ring in it.
"If you mean to climb, my young cockerel, we must see more of your
spurs and hear less of your scruples. Personal! Good God, what more
do you want? Aren't you the Emperor's own property? Isn't the Little
Father in danger? Isn't that enough? Personal! Ugh. Well, is this
personal enough for you? His Highness has already done you the honour
to pick you out for the favour of his ill will. This is a letter which
by one of those little accidents that do sometimes happen in my office,
has fallen into my hands. He is writing to an agent of his here in
Moscow. Listen: 'There is a young lieutenant of the Moscow Infantry
Regiment, named Petrovitch, about whom I want all the possible
information. He is a dishonourable scoundrel, I understand--a dicing,
gambling, drinking fellow, who thinks he can crow and strut on the
crest of his dunghill with impunity because he had the luck to beat a
better man than himself in a duel, and the insolence to insult another
officer--one of my friends--and then hide himself under official
protection. I hear now that he is meditating another and a greater
coup. I know much about him, but want you to get me as much more
information as possible. Such swash-buckling knaves are a disgrace and
danger to everything they touch. He is not to be trusted in anything
and all reasons make his overthrow necessary.'"
As he finished reading the extract, the Prince paused and lowering the
letter looked at me over the top. Then without giving me time to
answer, he continued:--
"Your 'butcher Durescq' was this man's close friend and tool--doing his
work for him. It was through this patron's influence that Durescq
escaped being turned out of the army altogether. Now, you can see two
things--why this man hates you, and how it was I heard of you. Is that
personal enough, Lieutenant?"
"By God, I should think it is," cried I, on fire with rage. "What does
he dare to interfere with me for?" As I asked the question the reason
flashed upon me as by inspiration. He had heard of my being associated
with Prince Bilbassoff and was afraid that as I knew so much about
Nihilism, I should get to learn of his connection with it, and he thus
deemed it best to have me put out of the way. He meant to have me
"removed." When I looked up, the Prince's keen subtle eyes were fixed
on me with calculating intentness.
"It is curious that this man should fix on you as the object of his
resentment--even though he is a Nihilist. Take care, my friend. I
know you have inherited a Nihilist black cloak and dagger with your
other undesirable possessions; beware how you use them."
"I believe the real Alexis had dealings with them," I said.
"If this Tueski woman manages to let them understand the truth, then,
you will need the wariest wits in the world to avoid stumbling."
"You have maddened me," I cried, as if impetuously, and in the highest
excitement. "Get me a meeting with that villain and were he twenty
times the swordsman he is, and covered in iron mail from head to foot,
my sword should find a chink to let the life out of him. I am on fire."
Then I rushed away; for in truth I dared not stay to be any longer
questioned about my relations with the Nihilists.
It all seemed clear to me now. They meant to use me for the horrible
business of the following day; and then under some pretext get rid of
me--murder me if necessary--or denounce me. This man held that I knew
too much for his safety.
All this was supposing, of course, that I escaped the danger of the
plot itself.