HOW CAME THIS TO PASS
Out of the ball-room the messenger rapidly led the way. They were
whisked up on an electric elevator; and along a passage, lined with
sentinels, they hurried until they reached the private apartments of
the King.
In the first, or outer, chamber were gathered several officers, talking
together eagerly. They passed through the chamber to a door at the
further end, where they were stopped by a Captain of the Guards,
who was evidently the officer on duty. At a whispered word from the
messenger, the officer moved aside. The messenger opened the door
and, stepping back, motioned Kearns to pass in alone to the sleeping
apartment of the King.
Kearns instantly took in the details of the scene which presented
itself as the door closed behind him--a spacious and brilliantly
lighted apartment, with a rather small alcove in which was set the
royal couch. Two persons were in the apartment--the King, seated on the
side of the couch, his face pale and troubled, holding a paper in his
hand; and, standing beside him, Lord Ashley, looking very grave.
Lying in disorder at the King’s feet was a large coverlid of gayly
colored silk, which appeared to have been thrown or dropped on the
floor in the confusion.
The King motioned to Kearns to approach. Kearns advanced and bowed.
“See!” said the King.
He motioned to Lord Ashley, who raised the silken coverlid. Kearns bent
eagerly forward and, despite the royal presence, a sharp, low whistle
of astonishment escaped him.
Stretched at full length upon the floor, his limbs rigid in death,
the thick blood oozing from nostrils and mouth, lay the King’s great
mastiff, with a bullet through his heart.
Kearns stood gazing intently at the corpse; then raised his eyes to
glance about him for possible clews as to the quarter whence death had
been dealt. But the King again drew his attention.
“Read!” he said, extending to Kearns the scroll he held in his hand.
Kearns took the paper, which was thick and heavy and was rolled in the
form of a cylinder. Unfolding it he read:
_The bullet which pierces your dog’s heart might as readily have
reached yours. Heed the warnings given while it is yet time. The hour
fast approaches._
Kearns slowly read the document, refolded it carefully and, still
holding it in his hand, addressed the King.
“I’d like to keep this,” he said, “for further examination. I can’t
tell but it may contain a clew.”
“As you will,” answered the King abstractedly. “You note what is said:
As the bullet pierced the dog’s heart, so might it have pierced ours.
And it’s true,” he added with a shudder, “horribly true! As the late
Czar of Russia, Zoldau the First, foully perished, so----”
Lord Ashley hastily interrupted.
“You forget, Sire,” he exclaimed, “that while it’s true His Majesty,
the late Czar, Zoldau the First, died suddenly while asleep, yet it was
officially certified to by the Court physicians that he died of acute
indigestion superinduced by----”
“A dagger, driven through his heart while he slept,” interposed the
King. “Yes,” he added with ghastly irony, “such things usually are
acutely indigestible.”
“Sire,” said Lord Ashley, “there are certain State secrets which His
Grace, the Lord Chancellor, would, I know, highly disapprove being
disclosed. It is not well that such rumors----”
“Rumors!” exclaimed the King with violence, “think you, Milord, that
these things are safely locked within the walls of the Chancellery!
Think you that such secrets are securely hidden? that they are not
whispered about among the people? Ah, don’t deceive yourself. But what
care we as to this! All the efforts of our officers, our soldiers, our
Secret Service have failed to protect us from these visitations. We
would that he,” and he turned to Kearns, “should know all that he may
fully grasp the necessities of the situation and measure the danger.”
Lord Ashley bowed a respectful acquiescence.
“It’s horrible--horrible!” continued the King with nervous energy.
“It’s easy enough to face death in a charge against the enemy as you
soldiers face it, but to wait and watch day after day, day after day,
never knowing from what quarter death may be creeping upon you from
some lurking assassin--ah, that’s different. It’s horrible--horrible!”
Kearns looked upon the King and a feeling akin to pity came into his
heart. In the course of his varied career, he had seen men in a similar
predicament and he well knew that this constant fear of attack from
some mysterious and unknown quarter was a situation such as to wring
the stoutest heart.
The King drew himself together with a strong effort.
“Whence came this shot?” he asked again turning to Kearns.
Kearns glanced about him. There were four windows to the apartment;
two of these were closed; the others were open. All four windows were
securely shaded with heavy blinds. Kearns crossed over and carefully
examined each window-casing and shade.
“Was it through a window?” continued the King.
“Possibly, Sire,” answered Kearns.
“You say possibly,” exclaimed the King, somewhat petulantly, “yet
how is it possible? On the ground directly beneath those windows are
two sentinels; on the roof directly above are two other sentinels.
The trees of the park are many feet away and from them no shot could
be fired which could possibly strike at the angle this shot struck.
Besides, you see the shades are undisturbed; no bullet has passed
through them. How do you account for all this?”
“I’ll know far more by this time to-morrow, Sire,” answered Kearns
calmly, “after I’ve concluded my investigations. In the meantime, I ask
that nothing here be disturbed.”
“And you will speak then to-morrow?” exclaimed the King eagerly.
“It was agreed, Sire,” said Kearns, with dignity, “in order to ensure
my usual success, that I should be permitted to pursue my usual
methods. I’ll speak, Sire, at my usual time.”
“Speak at your usual time!” repeated the King, apparently somewhat
bewildered. “And when is that?”
Kearns touched the foot of the prostrate dog lightly with his own.
“When,” he answered with cold determination, “when I hold the assassins
within my net--securely within my grasp!”