DRUGGED AND KIDNAPPED
My first thought, as my senses began to come back to me, was of the
train which was due to leave Petersburg for Moscow at midnight.
I clutched at my watch, and drew it forth. The hands marked the time
as 9.25. Apparently I had not been unconscious for more than a few
seconds.
My second glance assured me that my clothes were not disarranged. My
shirt-front, concealing the Czar's autograph letter, was exactly as
when I sat down to the table.
Only after satisfying myself on these two points did I begin to take
in the rest of my surroundings.
I was resting on a couch against the wall in the room where we had
dined. My host, the head of the Manchuria Syndicate, was standing
beside me, watching my recovery with a friendly and relieved
expression, as though honestly glad to see me myself again. A
servant, holding in his hand a bottle which appeared to contain sal
volatile, was looking on from the foot of the bed, in an attitude of
sympathetic attention. The other guests had left the room, and the
state of the table, covered with half-filled glasses and hastily
thrown down napkins, made it evident that they had cleared out of the
way to give me a chance to come to.
The cold air blowing over my forehead told me that a window had been
opened. A Russian January is not favorable to much ventilation. As a
rule the houses of the well-to-do are provided with double windows,
which are kept hermetically sealed while the rooms are in use. The
fact that the dining-room was still warm was sufficient proof that
the window could not have been opened for more than the briefest
time.
It was a singular thing that, in spite of these assurances that my
swoon had been an affair of moments only, I was seized by an
overmastering desire to get away from the house immediately.
I heard M. Petrovitch exclaim--
"Thank Heaven--you are better! I began to be afraid that your seizure
was going to last. I must go and reassure my guests. The Grand Duke
will be delighted to hear your are recovering. He was most distressed
at the attack."
I sat upright with an effort, and staggered to my feet.
"I am ashamed to have given you so much trouble," I said. "I can't
remember ever fainting like this before. Please make my excuses to
his imperial highness and the rest of the company."
"But what are you doing?" cried M. Petrovitch in dismay. "You must
not attempt to move yet."
"I shall be better in bed," I answered in a voice which I purposely
strove to render as faint as possible. "If you will excuse me, I will
go straight to my hotel."
The promoter's brow wrinkled. I saw that he was trying to devise some
pretext to detain me, and my anxiety to find myself clear of his
house redoubled.
"If you will do me a favor, I should be glad if you would let one of
your servants come with me as far as the hotel," I said. "I am
feeling rather giddy and weak."
The secret chief of the War Party caught eagerly at the suggestion.
It was no doubt exactly what he desired.
"Mishka," he said, turning to the servant, and speaking in Russian,
"this gentleman asks you to accompany him to his hotel, as he has not
yet recovered. Take great care of him, and do not leave him until he
is safe in his own bed."
The man nodded, giving his master a look which said--I understand
what you want me to do.
Thanks to this request on my part, M. Petrovitch raised no further
objection to my departure. I stumbled out of the room, pretending to
cling to the servant's arm for support, and let him help me on with
my furs, while the porter was summoning a sleigh.
There was a hurried consultation in low tones between my host and the
porter. Rather to my surprise the carriage, when it appeared, was a
closed one, being a species of brougham on runners instead of wheels.
I allowed myself to be carried down the steps like a child, and
placed inside; the door was closed, with the windows carefully drawn
up, and the jailer--for such he was to all intents and purposes--got
on the box.
The sleigh swept out of the courtyard and across the city. Directly
it was in the street, I very softly lowered one of the windows and
peered out. The streets seemed to me more deserted than usual at such
an hour. I was idly wondering whether the imminence of war could
account for this when I heard a church clock beginning to strike.
Once--twice--the chimes rang out. And then, as I was preparing to
close the window, they went on a third time--a fourth!
I held my breath, and listened with straining ears, as the great
notes boomed forth from the distant town across the silent streets
and houses.
One--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--nine--ten--ELEVEN!
I understood at last. That drugged sleep had lasted an hour and a
half, and before I came to myself my watch had been deliberately set
back to the minute at which I lost consciousness, in order to prevent
me from suspecting that I had been searched, or that there was
anything wrong about the affair.
Had I taken time for reflection I should probably have made up my
mind to lose the Moscow express. In order to lull the suspicions of
the conspirators, by making them believe I was their dupe, I should
have let myself be taken to the hotel and put to bed in accordance
with the kind instructions of my late host. In that case, no doubt,
my watch would have been secretly put right again while I was asleep.
But I could not bear the idea of all my carefully planned
arrangements being upset. Above all things, I desired to keep up my
prestige with the superintendent of police, Rostoy, who regarded me
as an invincible being possessed of almost magical powers. At the
moment when the clock was striking I ought to have been walking into
his room in the bureau of the Third Section.
Grinding my teeth with vexation, I very gently opened the door of
the carriage, which was traveling noiselessly over the snow, and
slipped out.
I had taken care to ascertain that no onlooker was near. As soon as
the sleigh was 'round the corner of the street I hailed a public
conveyance and directed the driver to take me to the police office.
I was only five minutes late in keeping my appointment. Detecting a
look of slight surprise on the face of the superintendent, I
apologized for keeping him waiting.
"It is my habit to be punctual, even in trifling matters like this,"
I remarked carelessly. "But the fact is I have been drugged and
kidnapped since I saw you, and it took me five minutes to dispose of
the rascals."
Rostoy stared at me with stupid incredulity.
"You are joking, Monsieur V----, I suppose," he muttered. "But,
however, since you have arrived, there is your disguise. You will
find everything in the pockets complete, including a handkerchief
marked with the initials of the name you have chosen."
"Monsieur Rostoy, you are an able man, with whom it is pleasure to do
business," I responded heartily.
The Russian swelled with pride at this compliment. I hastily changed
clothes, shifting nothing from my discarded costume except a
cigarette case which I had filled with the hotel cigarettes. My
inquiry as to the Gregorides brand smoked by M. Petrovitch had not
yet been answered.
"Surely you are not going to wear that linen shirt of yours right
across Siberia!" exclaimed Rostoy, who never took his eyes off me.
I shrugged my shoulders.
"It is a whim of mine always to wear linen," I responded. "I am not a
rheumatic subject. And, besides, I have no time to lose."
The superintendent threw a regretful look at the flannel shirt he had
provided for me.
As soon as I had finished my preparations I handed a thick bundle of
ruble notes to the superintendent.
"As much more when I come back safe," was all I said.
Rostoy snatched at his pay, his eyes sparkling with greed.
"Good-by and a good journey!" he cried as I strode out.
Once in the street, I had no difficulty in finding a sleigh, this
time an open one, to convey me to the railway station. I glanced at
my watch, which I had set by the church clock, and calculated that I
should have a few minutes to spare.
But I had not allowed for Russian ideas as to time. As the sleigh
drew up at the great terminus, and I came in view of the station
clock, I saw that it was on the stroke of midnight.
Flinging the driver his fare I rushed toward the barrier.
"Moscow!" I shouted to the railway official in charge.
"The train has just left," was the crushing reply.