"I know nothing of diamond eyes," I replied, surprised at Paul's excited
inquiry. Instead of showing a good-natured friendliness towards me as
usual, he had suddenly become agitated and suspicious. He glanced at me
in doubt, saying,--
"Sonia has been revealing something. It is useless now to try and
disguise the fact."
"No," I replied quickly. "She has not explained anything. What do you
expect her to reveal?"
"Oh, nothing, my dear fellow, nothing," he answered, smiling, with that
indifference cultivated by the diplomat. "The expression you used was
as original as it was unusual, that's all."
"I don't claim originality for it," I laughed. "To Sonia is the credit
due."
"To Sonia?" he exclaimed uneasily, glancing sharply at me. "Then it is
true, as I suspected, that she has been telling you some of her
ingenious falsehoods."
"Scarcely that," I replied, thrusting my hands deeply into my pockets.
"She has merely urged me to go to Ella and ask her whether she is
acquainted with anyone with diamond eyes."
"As I thought," he cried, rising and pacing the room furiously. "It is
exactly as I expected. She is trying to entrap you as she has the
others, and has embarked upon the first step by speaking thus of Ella,
and sowing seeds of suspicion in your mind. This is the character of
the woman you seek to help, and you invoke my assistance in your
efforts! No, Geoffrey," he said, halting suddenly, and looking me
straight in the face, "I shall not stir on her behalf."
"But remember, that in return for the passport, she has promised to tell
me all regarding Ella," I cried anxiously.
"All?" he echoed, in surprise. "Is she such a mysterious person, then?
Surely you have confidence in her, or you would not have asked her to be
your wife?"
"There is a mystery connected with her," I said quietly. "A mystery,
deep and inscrutable, that perplexes me to the point of distraction."
"Tell me about it," Verblioudovitch said, interested.
It was upon my tongue to relate to him the whole of the facts _sub
silentio_, but a thought at that instant occurred to me that such a
course would be unjust to Ella, therefore I evaded his invitation to
make him my confidant. Returning quickly to the object for which I had
sought him, I persuaded him to assist me by giving me a passport for
Sonia.
"What will she do in return?" he again inquired, raising his eyebrows
and shrugging his shoulders in a manner habitual to him when unduly
excited. "She will concoct some idiotic, romantic story, in order that
the woman you love shall suffer. I really cannot see, Geoffrey, what
end can be attained in assisting a criminal to re-enter the country from
which she is a fugitive. You don't know the real character of this
apparently ingenuous girl, or I feel certain you would never ask me to
imperil my reputation by rendering her assistance. If I had done my
duty long ago, I should have allowed the extradition proceedings to go
on. I'm sorry now I didn't, for if I had you would have been saved a
world of worry, and we should have been rid of the pair for ever."
"You seem actuated by some spirit of animosity against her," I blurted
forth.
"Not at all. I've never seen her in my life," he protested. "You
apparently want confirmation of my words. Well, you shall have it at
once," and he touched an electric button.
The summons was instantly obeyed by a messenger in uniform, and to this
man Paul spoke some words. A few minutes later a short, middle-aged
Russian entered.
His hair was grey, his clean-shaven face was rather red and slightly
pimply, his small, jet black eyes were set too closely together, and his
low brows met above his nose. Fashionably attired in frock coat of
light grey, with a pink carnation in the lapel, he looked so spick and
span that I regarded him with genuine surprise, when my friend,
introducing us, said,--
"This, Geoffrey, is Ivan Renouf; I daresay you have heard of him. He is
now chief of the section of Secret Police attached to our Embassies of
London and Paris."
I nodded in acknowledgment of the bow of this expert detective who, at
the time I had lived in St Petersburg, had been the terror of all
criminals. The stories told of his amazing ingenuity in detecting crime
were legion, though many of them were perhaps fabulous; yet there was no
doubt that he was one of the most experienced police officers in Europe.
"Renouf," my friend exclaimed, "I want to ask you a question. What
character does Sonia Korolenko bear?"
"Sonia?" answered the great detective, reflectively, in fairly good
English. "Ah! you mean the daughter of Anton Korolenko who escaped from
St Petersburg?--eh?"
"Yes. Tell my friend, Deedes," Paul said, with a slow gesture
indicating me.
"Well," he answered, glancing quickly at me with his searching eyes,
"for the past nine months we have kept her under strict surveillance,
expecting that she intended to re-commence operations in London.
Indeed, I have here in my pocket the report for the last forty-eight
hours," and he took from his breast-pocket a long folded paper. "It
shows among other things that she has had several visitors at her house
in Kensington, one of whom was a gentleman who, according to the
description, must have borne a strong resemblance to m'sieur. Two hours
before this man had called a lady visited her, and remained with her
about an hour." Then, reading from the report, he continued, "the
description says, tall, good-looking, blue eyes, reddish-brown hair,
straw hat trimmed with pale-blue, brown shoes, light blouse, black
cycling skirt."
"By Heaven!" I cried excitedly, "that's Ella! Every word of that
description tallies, even to the dress, boots and hat!"
"She is a frequent visitor," the detective observed. "She calls on her
bicycle every day."
"Every day!" I echoed in astonishment. "I did not know they were
friends."
"Did I not tell you that she was concealing the truth?" Paul observed,
smiling at my dismay. "Tell m'sieur of the past, Ivan."
"Ah! her record is a very black one--very black," the officer of police
answered gravely, again fixing his small dark eyes upon me. "Her
swindling transactions extend over several years, and she has no doubt
acquired quite a fortune, while at least one of her victims has lost his
life. By one coup she accomplished in Moscow, with the aid of that
soft-spoken old scoundrel, her father, they pocketed nearly one hundred
thousand roubles between them."
"I really can't believe it," I exclaimed, dumbfounded.
"There is no doubt whatever about it," Renouf answered. "It was all in
the papers at the time and made quite a stir throughout Europe. The
story is a rather tragic one; sufficient to show what kind of woman she
is. About three years ago she went with her father from St Petersburg
to Moscow, where they took a handsome house, furnished it luxuriously,
and gave a number of brilliant entertainments. At one of these the
pretty Sonia, whose jewels were the admiration of half the city, met the
young Prince Alexis Gazarin, a mere youth of twenty-two, who had only a
few months before inherited a huge fortune from his father, the
well-known promoter of the oil industry at Baku. Alexis fell violently
in love with her, made her many costly presents, proposed marriage and
was accepted, the parental consent being extracted only when he had
deposited in the bank in Sonia's name one hundred thousand roubles as
settlement upon her. A week before the marriage, the body of Alexis was
discovered floating in the yellow Volga near Kostroma, but whether his
death was due to accident, suicide or foul play has never been
ascertained. The fact, however, remains that Anton Korolenko and his
pretty daughter left Moscow a week later, carrying with them one hundred
thousand roubles of the dead man's money."
"Do you allege that the pair actually murdered him?" I inquired,
astounded at this story.
The detective smiled mysteriously, gave his shoulders a significant
shrug, but did not reply.
"This," exclaimed Paul, "is the sort of woman you are trying to
befriend! No doubt she has told you a most touching story of
persecution, and all that; but can anyone be surprised if our police
endeavour to arrest her? I tell you plainly she's a mere adventuress,
with a plausible story ever upon her tongue."
"Do you refuse to do what I ask?" I inquired at last, when Renouf,
pleading an appointment, had bowed and departed.
"I can really see no satisfactory reason why I should," he answered,
standing in the centre of the Persian rug spread before the fireplace.
"You are my friend, Paul," I urged. "At all times I am, as you are
aware, ready to perform you any personal service."
"It is not rendering you a personal service if, by giving the passport,
I induce her to tell you a tissue of untruths."
"But it is evident, even from Renouf's report, that Ella visits her. It
is to obtain an elucidation of a secret that I am striving, for I am
convinced Sonia knows the truth."
"If she does, then you may rely upon it she will not tell it to you, but
substitute some romantic fiction or other," he laughed. "It is really
astounding to find you so confident in her honesty."
Paul Verblioudovitch's attack of ill-temper vanished as he threw himself
back in his chair and showed all his white teeth in a hearty guffaw.
"I am not confident," I declared. "I have assisted the girl to obtain
her freedom, therefore I cannot see that she can have any object in
wilfully deceiving me. Her promise to reveal the truth regarding Ella
in exchange for the passport is but a mere business arrangement."
"You apparently suspect the woman you love of some terrible crime or
other," Paul said, after a pause. "I can't understand you, Geoffrey, I
must confess."
"If you were in my place, fondly loving a woman who was enveloped in
bewildering mystery, you would, I have no doubt, act quite as strangely
as myself," I exclaimed, smiling grimly. "I only want to discover light
in this chaos of perplexity; then only shall I be content."
"But if circumstances have so conspired to produce a problem, why not
remain patient until its natural elucidation is effected? The police,
when baffled, frequently adopt that course, and often very effectually,
too."
"Truth to tell, old fellow," I said confidentially, "I am anxious to
marry Ella, but cannot until I have ascertained some substantial truth."
"Of what do you suspect her--of a crime?" he inquired, smiling.