At about the same time Cecil was hastening through the streets of Rome,
often looking back to see if any one was following him, and viewing with
suspicious eyes every one he met. He finally stopped before the backdoor
of a palace, and, after having satisfied himself that he had not been
followed, he lightly knocked three times at the door. Upon its being
opened, a grim, bearded Russian face presented itself.
Cecil drew a ring from his bosom and showed it to the porter.
“Quick! conduct me to his excellency,” said he.
The Russian nodded his recognition of the token, and beckoned Cecil to
follow him. After a short reflection, Cecil entered and the door was
closed.
Guided by his conductor through a labyrinth of rooms and corridors,
Cecil finally succeeded in reaching a little boudoir, whose
heavily-curtained windows hardly admitted a ray of dim twilight.
The conductor, bidding Cecil to wait here, left him alone.
In a few moments a concealed door was opened, and a man of a tall, proud
form entered.
“At length!” he said, on perceiving Cecil. “I had begun to doubt your
coming.”
“I waited until I could bring you decisive intelligence, your
excellency,” said Cecil.
“And you bring it today?” quickly asked the unknown.
“In an hour we leave Rome for St. Petersburg!”
Uttering a loud cry of joy, the stranger walked the room in visible
commotion. Cecil followed him with timid, anxious glances, and, as he
still kept silence, Cecil said:
“Your excellency, I have truly performed what you required of me. I have
persuaded the count to make the journey, notwithstanding his opposition
to it, and, as you commanded, his ward remains behind in Rome, alone and
unprotected.”
“Ah, you praise your acts because you desire your reward,” said his
excellency, contemptuously opening his writing-desk, and drawing forth a
well-filled purse. “You there have your pay, good man!”
Cecil indignantly rejected the money. “I am no Judas, who betrays his
master for money,” said he. “Please remember, your excellency, for what
I promised to fulfil your excellency’s commands, and what reward you
promised me!”
“Ah, I now remember! You required my promise that no harm should befall
the count!”
“Only on that condition did I promise my assistance,” said Cecil. “When
your emissary sought me and called me to you, I only followed him, as
you well know, most noble count, because you gave me to understand that
my master’s life and safety were concerned. I came to you. Allow me,
your excellency to repeat your own words. You said: ‘Cecil, you have
been represented to me as a true friend of your master. Fidelity is so
rare a virtue, that it deserves reward. I will reward you by saving your
life. Quickly leave this traitorous count, and break off all connection
with him, else you are lost. I am secretly sent here in order to capture
the count and his criminal ward, and take them to St. Petersburg. What
there awaits the count may easily be imagined.’ Thus speaking, your
excellency then showed me the command for the count’s arrest, signed
by the empress. Upon which I asked: ‘Is there no means of saving
the count?’ ‘There is one,’ said you. ‘Persuade the count to return
immediately to St. Petersburg, leaving his ward behind him here, and
I swear to you, in the name of the empress, that no harm shall come to
him.’”
“Well,” impatiently cried the count, “what is the use of repeating all
that, as I know it already?”
“Only because your excellency seems to forget that what I did was not
done for your miserable gold, but for a totally different reward--the
safety of a man whom I love as my own son.”
“You have my word--no harm shall come to him.”
“I doubt not your excellency’s word,” firmly and decidedly responded
Cecil, “your word is all-powerful, and when you let your commanding
voice be heard, all Russia trembles and bows before you. But here your
voice resounds only between these walls, and nobody hears it but I
alone. Give me an evidence of your word--a safety-pass, signed by your
own hand, for my master, and then destroy the order for his arrest which
you now hold!”
“Ah, it seems you would prescribe conditions?” said the count, proudly.
“Certainly I will,” said Cecil. “I have complied with your conditions,
and now it is your turn, Sir Count, to comply with mine, for you knew
them before!”
A dark glow of anger showed itself in the count’s face, and,
passionately starting up, he approached Cecil, raising his arm
threateningly against him.
“Sir Count,” said Cecil, stepping back, “you mistake! I am no Russian
serf, I am a free man, and no one has a right so to threaten me!”
The count had already let his arm fall, seeming suddenly to have changed
his mind, and in a more friendly manner he said:
“You are right, Cecil, and what you desire shall be done.”
Taking a large sealed paper from a drawer in his writing-desk, he handed
it to Cecil.
“That is the order for the arrest; destroy it yourself!” said he.
Taking the paper, Cecil read it with attention. “It is, as you say, the
order for the arrest. It is destroyed!”
With a satisfied smile, he tore the paper into a thousand pieces, and
placed these in his bosom.
The count had stepped to the table and hastily written a few lines upon
another piece of paper. This he handed to Cecil. “I hope you are now
satisfied,” said he.
Cecil took the paper and read it.
“This is a safety-pass in due form,” said he--“a valid instruction to
all boundary guards and officials to let us pass without molestation.
Your excellency, we are quits. I complied with your wish, as you now
have with mine, and my dear master is saved!”
“It being understood that you start immediately,” said the count.
“The post-horses are already ordered, and we shall set out as soon as I
return home. Farewell, therefore, Sir Count; I thank you for enabling me
to save the man whom I most loved. I thank you!”
Cecil was approaching the door, when he suddenly stopped, and his face
took a sad expression. “I have deceived my dear master, in order to save
him,” said he, “and in order to redeem the promise I made to his father
on his death-bed, swearing that I would watch over and protect the son
at the risk of my heart’s blood. But if the son knew what I have done,
he would call me a betrayer and curse me, for he holds his ward dearer
than his own life! He leaves the princess in the belief that it
is necessary for her safety, and repairs to Russia, to return with
increased wealth. Sir Count, what is to become of Natalie?”
“That,” low and mysteriously replied the count, “that can be decided
only by the will of her who has sent me. Until that decision no hair of
her head can be touched, and the princess will follow me to Russia, only
with her own free will! But you must know that the empress hates no one
more than her own son. How, then, if she should be disposed to pass him
over, and select another as her successor?”
“Oh, would to God that I rightly understand you!” exclaimed Cecil.
“We shall, one day, perfectly understand each other,” said the count,
with a significant smile. “Now, hasten to redeem your word, and leave
Rome with your master!”
As soon as Cecil left the room, the count’s face assumed a knavishly
malicious expression. With a loud laugh he threw himself upon the silken
divan.
“Thus are all these so-called good men real blockheads, stupid fools,
who believe every word spoken to them with a friendly mien! This honest
man really believes that his highly-prized master is now saved, because
he bears in his bosom the fragments of the order for his arrest. Worthy
dunce; as if there were no duplicate, and as if every promise were
countersigned by the Divinity himself! Go home with your count--my word
shall be fulfilled. No hair of his head shall be touched, but his proud
back shall be curled, and in the mines of Siberia he may learn to bow
before a higher power!”
Thus speaking, the count pulled a bell whose silken cord hung over the
divan, and, as no one instantly appeared, he pulled it again, this time
more violently. But yet some minutes passed, and still the bell was
unanswered. The count gnashed his teeth with rage, and muttered vehement
curses.
At length the door opened, and with an imploring face a servant appeared
upon the threshold.
“Miserable hound, where were you?” cried the count to him.
The servant fell upon his knees and crept like a dog to his master’s
feet.
“Excellency, we had, as your grace commanded, so long as the gentleman
was with you, withdrawn from the anteroom and waited in the corridor,
where the bell could not be heard,” stammered the servant.
“I will teach you wretches to keep me waiting,” exclaimed the count, and
seizing the knout that lay upon the table before him, he laid it with
merciless rage upon the poor servant, until his own arm sank powerless,
and he felt himself exhausted with fatigue.
“Now, go, you hound!” said he, replacing the knout upon the table; and
the flagellated serf, rising respectfully, with his hand wiped away the
blood which ran in streams from his wounds.
“Now go and send my officers to me!” cried the count. The servant
staggered out to obey the command, and soon the persons thus ordered
made their appearance and remained standing in silence at the door.
The count lay stretched out upon the divan, playing with the knout,
whose leathern thongs were still dripping with his servant’s blood.
“Let a courier take horse immediately, and give him the order
countersigned by her imperial majesty for the arrest of Count Paulo
Rasczinsky. The courier will follow him with it to the Russian frontier,
and then by virtue of this order arrest him at the next station and send
him to St. Petersburg in chains! This is the command for the courier; he
will answer with his head for its execution!”
One of the officers bowed, and went to dispatch the courier.
“Is our reconnoitrer returned?” asked the count of the two who remained.
“He is.”
“What news brings he? Does he know the cause of the murderous attack
at the festival of the French cardinal? Yet why do I ask you? Make
yourselves scarce, and let him come to speak for himself!”
The officers were no sooner gone, than a wild-looking, bearded churl
made his appearance upon the threshold of the door and greeted the count
with a grinning laugh.
“What know you of the murderous attack?” asked the count, in Italian.
“A friend of mine was charged with the affair,” said the bravo. “He is
in the pay of the most holy Cardinal Albani. We served long together
under the same chief, and I know him intimately. He carries the most
skilful dagger in all Rome, and it is the greatest wonder that he missed
on this occasion.”
“Was it done by order of the cardinal?”
“No! The lord cardinal had lent this bravo to the celebrated
improvisatrice Corilla--the order came from her.”
“It is well!” said the count. “Do you know all the _bravi_ in Rome?”
“All, your excellency. They are all my good friends.”
“Well, now listen to what I have to say to you. You must hold the life
of the Princess Tartaroff as sacred as your own! Know that she is no
moment unwatched; that wherever she appears she is surrounded by secret
protectors. Whoever touches her is lost--my arm will reach him! Say that
to your friends, and tell them that the Russian count keeps his word.
Four thousand sequins are yours in four weeks, if until then the
princess meets with no accident. Away with you, and forget not my
words!”
“Ah, these words, your excellency, are worth four thousand sequins, and
these one does not so easily forget!” said the bandit, leaving the room.
Again the count rang, and ordered his private secretary, Stephano, to be
called.
“Stephano,” said the count to him, “the first step is taken toward the
accomplishment of our object. The work must succeed; I have pledged
my word for it to the empress, and who can say that Alexis Orloff ever
failed to redeem his word? This princess is mine! Count Paulo Rasczinsky
is just now leaving Rome, and she has no one to protect her!”
“But it is not yet to be said that she is already yours!” said Stephano,
shrugging his shoulders. “As you will not employ force, your excellency,
you must have recourse to stratagem. I have hit upon a plan, of which I
think you will approve. They describe this so-called little princess
as exceedingly innocent and confiding. Let us take advantage of her
confiding innocence--that will be best! Now hear my plan.”
Stephano inclined himself closer to the ear of the count, and whispered
long and earnestly; it seemed as if he feared that even the walls might
listen to him and betray his plans; he whispered so low that even the
count had some trouble in understanding him.
“You are right,” said the count, when Stephano had ended; “your plan
must and will succeed. First of all, we must find some one who will
incline her in our favor, and render her confiding.”
“Oh, for that we have our good Russian gold,” said Stephano, laughing.
“And besides,” continued the count, “our incognito is at an end. All
Rome may now learn that I am here! Ah, Stephano, what a happy time
awaits me! This Natalie is beautiful as an angel!”
“God grant that you may not fall in love with her!” sighed Stephano.
“You are always very generous when you are in love.”