Before I complied with Prince Kalkov’s request I took out a fresh cigar
and spent some time over lighting it.
“You have quite a stage instinct, monsieur, in pausing thus at the
critical moment. If I did not know you, I might be tempted to think you
were arranging the duly dramatic unfolding of the tale, or perhaps,” he
added lightly, “considering what part of it you need not tell.”
“It is after all only the story of a failure, Prince, and naturally
one does not care to dwell too long upon it. I went to Boreski, as
you know, led him to believe that I was the Emperor, laid before
him the papers as we arranged, and he took the objection I had
anticipated--that he must have the money in cash instead of a draft.”
“You told him the reason--that the money was a dowry?”
“Of course, and he immediately checkmated me by saying he was already
married to the Duchess and that the consent to the marriage must be
dated back.”
“He is a daring fellow. It was a tight corner. What did you say?”
“I couldn’t alter the date, of course, for the reason that I could not
write in the same hand, so I put up what we Americans term a bluff,”
and I described to him what had passed, withholding, of course, all
mention of Helga and her part in it.
“It was very clever, M. Denver. And why did you not come away?”
“If I had come the papers would have been placed in the hands of the
Powers’ representatives at once. I stayed, therefore, in the hope of
finding the means to avert such a catastrophe.”
“That was almost reckless, but under the circumstances no more than
I should have expected.” He was a fiend at the game of implied
suggestion, and again I was convinced he had secret information of some
kind. “But in the end you found you could do nothing?” he continued.
“They made you a prisoner.”
Why did he use that plural? What “they” had he in his mind?
“A prisoner in effect, because, if I left, Boreski meant to use the
papers at once. But I could have left at any moment.”
He smiled and nodded.
“Ingenious, highly ingenious. And then?”
“Then there was nearly the devil to pay. By some means or other the
Nihilist brotherhood got wind of the fact that I was at Boreski’s----”
“At Boreski’s?” he shot in, as if in surprise.
“Presumably it was Boreski’s house, and a hurried flight followed with
the object of saving me from them, but it was ineffectual. They found
me, and an attempt was made upon my life by a man named Vastic, and I
only averted it by shooting him.”
“What infernal villainy! It shows, of course, that Boreski is in league
with this brotherhood. And where was this?”
“I can find my way to the place, I think.”
“It would be at Brabinsk, of course.”
How the devil did he know that?
“It was a very close shave, I assure you,” I said, trying to conceal my
surprise. “It was Brabinsk; I remember to have heard the name. How did
you know it?”
“Through my agents. As a matter of fact, an anonymous communication has
been laid in the matter to the effect that murder was done there last
night--the murder of this man, Vastic.”
I felt my nerves chill at this, with sudden dread for Helga. He noticed
the change instantly. Nothing seemed to escape those piercing eyes of
his.
“The facts are as I have told you. His revolver was at my head when I
got the drop on him and fired. It was his life or mine.”
“Exactly. I don’t think you need bother your head about the matter.
My men are out there by this time, and we know how to deal with
such cases. Vastic was one of the few really dangerous men in this
brotherhood, and by killing him you have added to our obligation. We
shall try to avoid any fuss. By the way, were there any witnesses?”
He was the devil with these quietly-put, probing, torturing questions.
“What was the account they gave of it? A second man was joined in the
attempt and witnessed it.”
He saw the obvious parry.
“Naturally nothing was said of that,” he answered with a laugh. “I
mean, was Boreski present? You see, it would be most valuable to be
able to connect him with it, and his presence would be enough.”
“No, Boreski was not in the house,” I answered, cursing him in my
thoughts for torture he inflicted.
“Then why did you stay there?”
“I have told you--because of the threat to use the papers.”
“Oh, yes, of course. It is a pity. I should like to have had that link
in the chain against him.” He frowned as if genuinely concerned, and
added after a pause, “Of course, you will see the desirability--the
necessity, in fact--of telling everything, everything in the fullest
sense, I mean, in such a case?”
“Do you think I have not?” I retorted sharply.
“Where are the papers now?” he asked, putting my implied repudiation on
one side.
“I should think we had better ask M. Boreski,” I answered, attempting
a light tone and forcing a smile. But it was an effort. I recognized
that, and recognized too that I was afraid of him. Not for myself, he
could not harm me; but terribly afraid for Helga.
“I should have thought that, too,” he answered, copying my light tone.
“But it’s just there I am puzzled. You see, Boreski says he doesn’t
know either.” He spoke for all the world as though we were just talking
over the thing in full mutual confidence.
“It’s scarcely likely, is it, that he would tell everything?”
“No, no, of course not. But he declares, or at least the Duchess
Stephanie does, and it’s the same thing, that he hasn’t them.” Then he
started as if an idea had occurred to him. “By the way, you haven’t
said anything about this mysterious lady, Mademoiselle Helga Boreski?
Didn’t you think it worth while, or didn’t you see her?”
His eyes were on my face, and he saw the wince I gave at the sudden
thrust. He had known about her all the time.
“I didn’t wish to bring her name into the affair.”
“Ah, monsieur, that was a mistake. May I ask the motive?”
“Certainly. She is the lady whom I hope to make my wife.” It was my
turn to surprise him now, and a long pause followed, while he sat
smoking and thinking over the new turn.
“Well, M. Denver, I am genuinely sorry for you; sorry that I ever sent
you on this business. You cannot save this lady, and it would of course
be idle for me to pretend that I do not see how your feeling for her
has actuated you. She is a Nihilist; she has had chief part in this
plot; she holds these papers; she was present when the attempt was made
on your life--and probably instigated it----”
“No, she did not,” I interposed angrily. “At that time she knew quite
well I was not the Emperor.”
“So you told them that?” he returned in his quiet suggestive manner.
“I did my utmost to obtain the papers,” I protested.
“We are getting at cross purposes, monsieur,” he answered with dryness.
“I will not question you about her. Probably you know who she is and
what her motive is in the strange course she is taking. I do not yet;
I am speaking frankly--more frankly than you dealt with me--but I have
now certain information, and shall soon have more. But already I know
enough to warrant me in ordering her arrest.”
“You have seen the Duchess Stephanie this morning?”
“Yes, and shall see her again--and others. You must face the facts,
monsieur; and the facts are that this Mademoiselle Helga will not
be long at liberty, and that any thought of marriage between you is
absolutely out of the question. She will go to the mines.”
“On the contrary, your Highness, she will be my wife,” I said firmly.
Now that the mischief was out, and I was no longer clogged by the need
to hide things, my embarrassment was at an end, and I recovered my
self-possession. There was a prospect of a fight too, and my spirits
rose to it.
“We shall see, monsieur. I am, as I say, deeply sorry for you; but,
believe me, you will not improve your case if you attempt to espouse
this reckless young woman’s cause and fight our Government for her
sake.”
“Fight you, you mean, Prince?”
“As a member of that Government, yes: in a way it is fighting me.”
“You forget the Emperor is my friend.”
“But not the friend of desperate young women Nihilists, monsieur,” he
answered with calculated deliberateness. “You must give her up.”
“That I will never do.”
“Then the consequences will be disastrous. But now,” and he waved
his hand as if putting that matter aside, “there is another matter.
Your killing of this man, Vastic, has made you many enemies. Your name
is known to them as well as your appearance, and your life may be in
danger at their hands. You were mentioned by name in the charge which
reached us. We shall of course protect you.”
“I can protect myself, thank you,” I interposed.
“We can run no risks of any trouble with the American Embassy on your
account, and we must therefore charge ourselves with the task of
protecting you. What I propose to you, therefore, is, as I said at
first, that you either return to the frontier, or that you start on
your journey to Khiva under strong escort, and that you adopt one of
those courses forthwith.”
“I thank your Highness, but I shall not go. I shall not leave
Petersburg, at any rate until I have seen the Emperor.”
He rose then and tossed away his cigar.
“I hold you for a man of decision, monsieur, but in this case I will
give you an opportunity of reconsidering this one. I will see you again
in an hour.”
“You will not find me here. I shall go to an hotel.”
“For that hour at least it will not be convenient to us for you to take
such a step.”
“Does your Highness make me a prisoner?” I demanded indignantly.
“I will see you again in an hour, monsieur,” he replied, and with that
left the room, without heeding my angry retort.
As soon as he had gone the servant entered and asked my permission to
attend to the rooms. I gave it to him, and throwing such things as lay
to hand into a grip I went to the door.
“I shall not be back,” I said to him, and he turned and looked at me
curiously.
“Very well, monsieur,” he answered. “But I believe His Highness wishes
to see you here.”
I flung the door open, for my temper was up, and then found I was
indeed a prisoner. Three men were posted there on guard.
Affecting to believe their presence had nothing to do with me, I made
as if to brush by them.
“Your pardon, monsieur,” said the man in command, “but my orders are to
desire you to be so good as to await His Highness’s return.”
“I have told the Prince I will see him another time,” I returned.
“Deepest regrets, monsieur; but my orders were very precise;” and as
it was quite evident that he was prepared to prevent my departure by
force if necessary, I gave in, went back into the room and slammed the
door. Just one of those childish acts a man commits in a rage.
But the situation was far too grave for my vexation over the mere
personal indignity to last long. The thing had to be considered as an
indication of the length to which the Prince was ready to go in the
absence of the Emperor. He would stick at nothing; and the treachery
which had destroyed Helga’s father years ago was still a practical
policy with him.
The question was what he could do to me and whether he would attempt to
keep me from seeing the Emperor. It was clear that his suspicions had
fastened upon Helga. He had had his own reasons for asking so pointedly
about her real motives.
“You probably know who she is; I do not--yet,” he had said; but he
had a connecting link almost in his hands in the person of Boreski.
Moreover he had accepted my news as meaning that I should associate
myself with her. If then he guessed that she was so dangerous to him
as the daughter of the dead Lavalski would be, I could not doubt he
would strain every nerve, not only to secure her and put her away as
a Nihilist, but also to keep me as her champion from getting to the
Emperor’s ear.
But what should I do? That was the question. Drive me out of Russia he
should not; that I was resolved; but shut up in my room in the Palace I
was as powerless as if I had been in New York. He could set his dogs to
hunt down Helga and have her half-way to Siberia before I might get a
chance to escape; and the thought was almost maddening in my then state
of mind.
Presently it occurred to me to try and meet craft with craft, to
pretend to accept his offer of a safe conduct to the frontier and then
return. To get out of the Palace by way of the frontier was a long
route, but it was better than remaining where I was, and things being
as they were it appeared the only course for me to adopt.
It was nearly three hours, instead of only one, before he returned,
and when he came I saw that he had fresh news. I could read him
sufficiently well by this time to see that.
“I regret the delay, M. Denver, but it has been unavoidable,” he said
in suave apology. “Have you considered your decision?”
“I protest in the strongest manner, Prince Kalkov, against my forcible
detention here. I demand, as a citizen of the United States, to have an
opportunity of communicating with our Embassy here.”
“That course is open to you naturally, and if you press it I cannot
and shall not oppose it. You may indeed find it necessary--in your own
defence.”
“Then I am free to go to them?”
“Not exactly that, but you will have the usual opportunities,” he
answered with one of his infernal implied threats.
“What do you mean by usual opportunities?”
“Our legal procedure in regard to foreigners is not perhaps very swift,
but it is very just; and if you prefer an open investigation into
this man Vastic’s death to the course I indicated before, I cannot of
course object. And as an American accused of murder you would be fully
entitled to all the help of the American embassy.”
“But you know the truth as to that,” I cried.
“And personally have not a doubt that your act was committed in
self-defence. Still it _was_ committed, and----” He finished with a
shrug of the shoulders and a lifting of the hands.
“Do you mean that you accuse me of murder?”
“I? God forbid I should do you such an injustice,” he said, as if in
indignant repudiation of the idea. “It is others who do it.”
“You are the devil, Prince Kalkov,” I cried furiously. “This is just
another of your infernal schemes.”
“Is that quite just to me, when I have offered you a safe conduct
across the frontier, or to anywhere you please? It is you who place me
in this awkward situation.”
“To hell with your hypocrisy,” I exclaimed, losing my head in my rage.
“Speak out bluntly, and say what you do mean--that if I won’t consent
to leave the country you will take this devil’s way of getting me into
one of your cursed prisons while you carry out your other plans.”
“Really, M. Denver, this language to me is beyond bounds--even for a
free-speaking citizen of the United States. It is true we might not be
able to get the proceedings finished for some weeks; I have known it
take months, indeed. There was the case of----”
“The devil take your cases. Do your worst, and we’ll fight it out on
those lines;” and I turned away and flung myself into a chair.
But he was my match at that tactic also. He sat down, drew a small
table to his side, took out some papers and studied them with slow
methodical deliberation. He calculated that my temper would not last,
and that I should then see the utter futility of resisting him. And of
course it proved so.
“I’ll accept your terms and leave Russia,” I said, when the silence had
lasted many minutes.
“Pardon me,” he said, as if he was buried in some other matters. “Just
one minute,” and he went on with his papers, and then folded them up
neatly. “Now I am at your service again. Let us talk it over. Why do
you treat me as an enemy?”
“I would rather not discuss anything except my departure.”
“As you please, but the matter is not quite where it was when we last
spoke of it. I know a great deal more than I did, and I am compelled
to regard you as more dangerous than before. You are at liberty to
leave, but I shall have to ask you for a written declaration on your
word of honour as an American gentleman that you will go straight to
America, and that you will make no effort to communicate, directly
or indirectly, with my August Master. Further, I shall place at your
disposal a courier, who will accompany you to the port you select--I
would suggest Hamburg--and attend on you until you reach New York. This
I do partly for your personal safety.”
“And chiefly as a spy to see that I do go, you mean.”
“He will of course report to me.”
“And if I refuse?” I asked, when I could force myself to speak without
anger.
“I hope you will not refuse, because if you are still in Russia when
the man Vastic’s death is investigated--and time in that matter
presses, of course--it will be very difficult, I fear, to avoid your
being implicated.” The perfect command he had over his expression and
tone aggravated me almost as much as what he said.
“I will make a condition on my side--that Mademoiselle Helga Boreski be
allowed to leave the country at the same time.”
“Mademoiselle Helga Lavalski, you mean?”
I nearly broke my teeth as I clenched them at this.
“I have said whom I mean.”
“Well, there are two objections. You know her story of course, and so
do I--_now_. She is, as you are aware, unwilling to leave until she has
ruined me for some fancied wrong; and she is a dangerous Nihilist, with
whom the authorities can have no dealings except in the usual legal
way. She will go to the mines, as I told you, if we deal with her.”
“And if you have found her, perhaps,” I cried with a sneer.
“True; and true also that we may not have to deal with her at all. She
has, as you know, incurred the vengeance of this brotherhood, and it
may be less troublesome to leave her to them.”
“Thank God, she is as safe from them as from you.”
“Yes, but not more so. You left a paper in your coat which the servant
found and handed to me. You had scribbled on it two or three words
which I thought might have reference to her--about a small red-brick
house in the north-east corner of the Square of San Sophia. I followed
up that clue, and by this time the information we gained is in the
hands of the brotherhood. They will know how----”
“Stop, for God’s sake, stop,” I said hoarsely, jumping to my feet in
horror. “I can bear no more. If you say another word, I swear to God I
shall find it in me to kill you where you sit.”