WHEN I WAS CZAR
[Illustration: “‘IT IS NOT CUSTOMARY FOR ME TO EXPLAIN MY POSITION
TWICE,’ I SAID WITH A LOFTY AIR.”--_Page 30._]
When I
Was Czar
A ROMANCE
_By ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT_
_Author of “By Wit of Woman,” “In The Name of a
Woman,” “By Right of Sword,” “For
Love or Crown,” etc._
[Illustration]
_A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers
NEW YORK_
_Copyright, 1903_,
BY ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT
_All rights reserved_
Published in October, 1903
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A LETTER HOME 1
II. PRINCE KALKOV’S PROPOSITION 4
III. THE EMPEROR STARTS 14
IV. WHEN I WAS CZAR 24
V. A CZAR DEFIED 35
VI. HIS MAJESTY A PRISONER 45
VII. “I AM NOT THE CZAR” 56
VIII. DEEPER IN 67
IX. HELGA SPEAKS 77
X. VASTIC 88
XI. CONVICTION AT LAST 97
XII. HELGA’S ANGER 108
XIII. THE ATTACK 119
XIV. CONCERNING THE VALUE OF HOSTAGES 130
XV. THE DANGERS THICKEN 139
XVI. HELGA’S DEFEAT 149
XVII. AT THE GATES OF THE PALACE 160
XVIII. PRINCE KALKOV’S WELCOME 170
XIX. TURNING THE SCREW 181
XX. A DEATH TRAP 192
XXI. AT THE SQUARE OF SAN SOPHIA 203
XXII. FLIGHT 212
XXIII. AT THE FRONTIER 223
XXIV. THE FRESH CAMPAIGN 234
XXV. THE LUCK WAVERS 245
XXVI. I WIN 256
XXVII. A LAST MOVE 268
XXVIII. LOVE WILL HAVE ITS WAY 278
XXIX. A LAST PRECAUTION 289
XXX. THE PRINCE OUTWITTED 298
XXXI. AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR 309
XXXII. THE END 321
_When I was Czar_
CHAPTER I--A LETTER HOME
THE PALACE, ST. PETERSBURG.
MY DEAR MILLER,--
Your letter, which was as short as old Canfield’s temper, reached me in
Berlin as I was starting for here. I’m off to Khiva, this wise.
You’ll remember my old yarn about the Czar having saved my life years
ago in a pig-sticking do in Germany--he shoved or kicked me into a bush
just in the nick of time when the brute made his rush--and how we then
discovered the strong resemblance between us? Well, it’s still true,
and things have been happening in consequence.
I ran across Burnaby’s book about Khiva a while back and resolved to
go there. He says that three Tartars can eat a whole sheep at a single
meal, and I want to see if it’s true. Any old tag’s good enough excuse
for a globe-trotter, so I wrote to the Czar, reminded him of the pig
incident, and asked permission to go East. As a result, I’m here as his
guest; we’ve had a chat over the old time, and I’m to go where, when
and how I like all over his dominions. He’s an awfully decent sort, and
I’m in for a real good time. But it’s been a queer show.
There’s a woman in it of course--and a glorious woman too. A tall,
queenly creature, as handsome as a Greek, with the free carriage of one
of our own American girls. I saw her on the train, or rather she saw me
and seemed particularly interested in me, and it was suiting me very
nicely when out came the reason. We stopped at a station some miles
from the capital, and as the girl and I were separated from the rest of
the people, she said in an undertone--
“Your Majesty does not count the risks of travelling incognito, alone?”
“There are pleasures to counterbalance any risks, mademoiselle,” I
answered. “Your solicitude is one of them.” And I smiled, partly at
her amazing mistake and partly because she was so pretty. Then to put
myself right, I added: “But you mistake, I am no Majesty. I am an
American, Harper C. Denver is my name.” She lifted her eyebrows and
smiled again, in obvious disbelief, and replied in French--
“An American who understands Russian, speaks French, and resembles His
Majesty the Czar.”
“An American who would gladly welcome an opportunity of seeing you
again, mademoiselle.”
“An American who does not desire it more fervently than I. Meanwhile,
accept my warning, sire.” She spoke with intense earnestness, and then
left the train.
How’s that for an adventure, eh? But that was only scene one. I sat
thinking it over until the train ran into the station at Petersburg,
and then came scene two.
The moment I stepped from the cars I saw that considerable preparations
had been made to receive some one of importance, and while I stood
looking about for him an old man, tightly bound in a somewhat rich
uniform, with two or three companion volumes in attendance and a shelf
of soldiers behind, came up to me. He waved everybody else out of
earshot, and then with an almost reverential salute, said, in a low
voice--
“Mr. Denver, I am sure.”
“Yes, that’s my name.”
“Allow me to welcome you to the capital in my august master’s name. I
am Prince Kalkov, and His Majesty has instructed me to conduct you to
the Palace. Will you accompany me?”
By this time the people on the platform had begun to show considerable
interest in the proceedings, to my intense amusement, and came crowding
around a bit.
“I shall be delighted,” I replied; and accordingly the Prince gave
a word of command to those in attendance, a guard of soldiers was
formed, and I was in this way escorted to the first of a string of
carriages in waiting.
“To the Palace at full gallop,” cried the Prince in a tone loud enough
to reach the by-standers. Some one raised a shout of “God save the
Emperor,” and in another minute we were off to the accompaniment of
loud cries and ringing cheers from the crowd, which was by that time a
pretty big one.
That was my sensational entrance into the capital. Here I am at the
Czar’s Palace, and from what I can judge there’s a great deal more of
the same kind to follow.
“Which is why I remark,
And my language is plain,
That for ways that are dark
And for tricks that are vain,
The Russian at Home is peculiar.
And the same I shall hope to explain”--another time.
Comic opera with a dash of mysticism seems about a fair description of
things up to now. More, when I’ve time to write.
By the way, couldn’t you manage to leave Wall Street and the dollar
raking process for a while and meet me on my return? I mean to go on
from Khiva through India to China. Come and lunch with me, say in
Pekin, and have a time among the pigtails. Wire me at our Legation and
our people will forward to me. Seriously, you might do many things
worse. Your old friend,
HARPER C. DENVER.
N.B.--I’m not monkeying about the Pekin business. Come and meet me like
the good fellow you are, and hang Wall Street.
H. C. D.