THE PRINCE PLAYS TRUMPS
As the general strode through the cell-lined corridors he swiftly
planned his course. He had power to condemn, but in a case of such
flagrant guilt he had not power to pardon. He would return to his
home, send the governor an official order staying the execution, and
then hasten straight to the Czar and beg for clemency. He would keep
the identity of the prisoners secret, save only from his royal master,
and thus, barring misfortune, he and his name would emerge from the
situation without public disgrace.
He came out into the court, where he had left his sleigh, to find
standing there a score of cavalry. The officer in charge, a captain
whom he knew, rode up to him, dismounted, and saluting respectfully,
handed him an envelope.
“I was sent to give this to Your Excellency,” he said.
“Thank you.” The general started to put it in his coat.
“Pardon me, Your Excellency, but I was to request you to examine it at
once.”
The general opened the envelope and read.
“It is with extreme regret that we find it advisable to remove you
temporarily from office and place you under domiciliary arrest until
six o’clock to-morrow morning. During this period you are not to
communicate with anyone whatever, by speech or writing, except your
guards who will be with you constantly.
“There is no desire to dishonour you. If you will submit yourself
quietly to this order, and will promise to make no effort to break
its provisions, only the bearer of the order and his two lieutenants
need accompany you. No attention will be attracted and the fact of
your temporary restraint will never reach the public.
“NICHOLAS.”
The general stood there in the snow and stared at the paper. All his
blood seemed to flow out of him.
His way to the Czar was blocked--blocked by the Czar’s own hand. He
could not even send the intended reprieve. He was as helpless as though
bound and gagged.
And his children would die under his own death warrants!
He knew the power he served too well not to know that his only course
was submission. If he did not go quietly, he would go under a heavy
guard, and the only difference would be the public disgrace.
He pulled himself together with a great effort and pocketed the order.
“I will go with you,” he said to the captain.
The captain saluted.
The prince touched his pocket. “You know the contents of this?”
“I know only my orders.” He again saluted. “Shall I ride with you?”
“If you please.”
The captain gave his horse to one of his men to be led, and the two got
into the sleigh. The prince then remembered that his children would be
expecting every minute up to the last the reprieve that now was not to
come. They ought to be spared that long suspense with its climax of
disappointment, but he knew it was useless to ask to speak with them.
He was aware that the governor was behind them, though he pretended
ignorance of the fact. “I was examining two condemned prisoners,” he
remarked to the captain, but for the governor’s ear. “They asked a
slight favour of me which I promised to consider. Will you have one of
your men tell the governor to inform them that I can do nothing for
them.”
“I will see they are told,” eagerly put in the governor.
The captain looked as if he half considered this to be a breach of
orders; but the prince gave him no chance to object.
“Let us start,” he said quickly.
The sleigh moved off through the arched gateway, two officers riding
beside it, and the rest of the troop following at a distance. To
Governor Kavelin, and to all whom they passed, the cavalcade seemed
merely an escort of honour. But beneath the prince’s calm surface he
was revolving frantic measures. He thought of telling the captain at
his side that the condemned ones were his children, and begging his
aid; but he knew the captain had his orders and would dare not disobey.
He thought of rising in his sleigh and crying out to the people, but he
knew this would not avail to save his children. This would do nothing
but spectacularly publish his own disgrace. So he rode on with closed
lips, a cold, proud figure.
The three officers accompanied him into his office, where Drexel sat
waiting. As they entered, Drexel sprang up.
“Yes, yes?” he cried.
The prince, surrounded by his guards, could only gaze at Drexel in his
commanded silence.
“For God’s sake, what does this mean?” Drexel demanded in dismay.
Thus abjured, the prince opened his mouth. “I am----”
“Stop, prince!” the captain broke in. “Remember, you cannot speak.”
“He cannot speak?” cried Drexel.
“Such is the order.”
“But I must know! I must know!”
“He can say nothing,” said the captain in a tone of finality.
Drexel stared at the prince in helpless despair. The prince turned to
the captain.
“I may not speak to him, I know. But I may to you. This gentleman has
sought my interest in a certain matter. It will be no breach of your
orders for you to inform him that I am under arrest.”
“Under arrest!” exclaimed Drexel.
“And that I can do nothing whatever in the affair,” the prince
concluded.
“Nothing!” breathed Drexel.
“I think the gentleman understands,” said the captain. “I am sure he
will excuse me when I say that it is necessary for him to withdraw.”
Drexel stumbled out of the palace. He leaned upon the river’s parapet
and gazed wildly across the night at the dim outlines of the Fortress.
The last card played--and trumped!
* * * * *
Drexel thought he knew the worst. Doubtless he did, but he did not know
all.
At the time that Drexel stood gazing across at Sonya’s prison, word
was brought to Prince Berloff that his plan for the arrest of General
Valenko had had successful issue. The fear of the last hour, since he
had been told that the general had gone to the Fortress, gave place to
exultant satisfaction. Yes, it was fortunate that he had foreseen the
danger that the general might learn the identity of the two prisoners,
and had had the general’s every movement shadowed, prepared instantly
to checkmate him. And it was fortunate, too, that he had had by him
blank orders with the Czar’s signature attached, entrusted to him by
Nicholas for use in extreme emergency.
Upon his self-congratulation there entered Freeman. Freeman reported
that he had been searching for Drexel ever since he had left Berloff
the night before, but that thus far he had not a clue.
“No clue yet!” exclaimed the prince. “And only ten hours remain! After
the execution he will be sure to return to the Howards, and then we
cannot touch him.”
“Correct,” was the easy response. “And in the meantime he is hiding
with the revolutionists, and there is little chance of our finding him
by ordinary police methods in these ten hours.”
“Then he will escape unless we use some clever, quick-working plan!”
“Exactly, prince.” Freeman’s eyes gleamed between their puffy,
blackened lids. “And so we are going to use a clever, quick-working
plan.”
“Then you have one?”
“A great one! Princess Valenko knows every revolutionist that Drexel
knows. Also she believes me under arrest, and does not suspect me. You
are to have me put in the cell with her and her brother, as condemned
to die--and trust me, in the emotional before-the-scaffold hour, as a
fellow prisoner doomed to die at the same time, to worm out of her the
name of every possible person with whom Drexel can be in hiding.”
“I see! I see!”
“Then when I’m released,” Freeman went on excitedly, “we’ll swoop down
on every person whose name I’ve learned. We’ll get him, sure! And we’ll
get every leader of importance still free in St. Petersburg!”
“Excellent!” ejaculated the prince.
The triumphant light that leaped up in his eyes as suddenly died out.
“But, Mr. Freeman, there is one weak spot in the plan.”
“What is that?”
“Yesterday’s attempt to free Borodin shows that the revolutionists
have very likely won over, or bought over, a number of the prison
staff. Some of these guards might get warning to the prisoners that you
are not condemned to die. Then they would be suspicious and tell you
nothing.”
“I’ve foreseen that danger, and have devised my plan to avoid it. I am
to be really condemned to death.”
“You mean----”
“I mean that you are to have a real death warrant made out for me.
Then no one in the prison, not even the governor, will know what we’re
about.”
“Yes, that avoids the danger!”
“And then an hour before the execution you send an officer with an
order for my release. No--wait. Now that I think of it, I don’t care to
have that order trusted to any stupid officer. Suppose he failed to get
there on time--eh? Prince, you must bring it yourself.”
This fitted Berloff’s desire; for being in the Fortress at the time
of the execution, he would not have to wait till morning to learn
definitely that he had won the great stake for which he had so craftily
played.
“Very well; I will bring it myself.”
“Say at three o’clock?”
“At three o’clock.”
Freeman rose to go. “One moment,” said the prince. He paused, then went
on quietly. “You will recall that two or three weeks ago we considered
the desirability of a terroristic plot against General Valenko.”
Freeman smiled cynically. “Whose misfortune it was to stand between you
and his fortune. Yes, I remember.”
“We dropped it then because the revolutionists refused to be involved.
They will now be burning to avenge the general’s execution of their
comrades. Might not this be a good time to take it up again?”
Freeman’s sinister intelligence read what was in the prince’s mind.
“With the two children out of the way, why wait years for the
general’s natural death to give you possession of his fortune--eh,
prince? Besides, if you waited, he might come to suspect your part in
to-night’s business and will his fortune elsewhere. You are right--this
is the very time.”
“Then you will undertake the matter at once?”
“I will begin on it to-morrow--as soon as Drexel is done for. Prince,
allow me to congratulate you. Victory over the revolutionists--two vast
fortunes the same as won to-night--a beautiful bride to-morrow--and the
Prime Ministership certain to be yours! How the devil must love his
favourite child!”
The prince frowned, but his heart leaped at the summary of his success.
They settled the further details of their plans, and an hour later
Freeman, in coarse prison clothes, was thrust into the dungeon with
Sonya and Borodin.