CHECKMATE.
When the Court re-assembled, however, a change in the moral temperature
had evidently taken place.
John Mainwaring entered with a certain assured step, and with almost a
smile upon his sombre countenance.
The audience, quick to notice the bent of any straw in this stream of
sensationalism, became at once aware of the slight increase of definite
self-possession in Mr. Mainwaring's bearing, and whispered amongst
themselves that the young lawyer had "caught on" to something new since
his speech of the morning, and was looking mighty pleased and smiling
over it.
So soon as the room was reduced to order, Mr. Mainwaring arose, and,
addressing Judge Anstice, begged to be permitted to substantiate his
statements of the morning through one witness only.
"He had," he said, "been jumped upon so summarily by his learned friend,
Mr. Munger, almost before he had finished his few remarks--he could not
dignify them by calling them a speech--that he had had neither time nor
opportunity in which to introduce this _vivâ voce_ evidence. He might be
somewhat out of order in wishing to do so now; but, as to that, the
entire examination had been conducted on purely informal lines. They had
all understood why it had been so conducted, for, where such grave
issues were at stake, it was not to be cavilled at if a few exceptions
were given and taken."
As he understood, the present position of affairs stood in this wise.
Could he prove that there were two Adèle Lamiens, or rather that Miss
Hildreth, in personating Adèle Lamien, had in truth portrayed the only
Adèle Lamien, and that the whereabouts of that lady were known to him
and could be substantiated? Should he establish this, he supposed the
charge against Miss Hildreth would be withdrawn. Doubtless the story he
had related to them, did sound incredible and marvellous; but they must
bear in mind that it was not given to every one to understand and
appreciate the higher gifts of heroism and courage. Mr. Munger had
clearly pointed out that what was required were proofs, proofs and
nothing but proofs. As he had said, truly, either Miss Hildreth was, or
was not, the woman, Adèle Lamien, wanted by the Russian police. If she
was proved not to be Adèle Lamien, then she would be released from her
present painful position, and would go out from this examination without
a stain upon her character. On the other hand, if this point was not
established, but remained doubtful, or if she was proved
circumstantially to be Adèle Lamien, then her fate was a hard one
indeed; she had only the tender mercies of the Russian law to look to.
Mr. Munger had seen fit to taunt him with his frank acknowledgment of
Miss Hildreth's personation of Adèle Lamien; he had, indeed, made very
merry over his childish logic. He could not hope to emulate Mr. Munger's
flow of rhetoric, still he could and would meet Mr. Munger's demand for
proofs, by introducing certain conclusive testimony. He would put aside
all extraneous matter, whether personal or otherwise, and stick to one
or two points only. Was there another Adèle Lamien, beside Miss
Hildreth, who was the real criminal, and if so, where was she to be
found? If he established these two points he should consider the
question of identity definitely disposed of. He would now produce his
sole and only witness.
At the sound of his name the Italian, Mattalini, stepped forward, and
with the slightest shrug of his shoulders, gave a meaning smile, as his
eye caught and held that of his master Vladimir Mellikoff.
At the sight of this paid servant of the Imperial Chancellerie appearing
against him, Vladimir Mellikoff gave a perceptible start, and for the
first time his belief in the ultimate success of his mission wavered. He
was, however, too seasoned a diplomatist to show any outward signs of
his inward disquietude, and, save for that momentary impulsive change of
expression, his dark, cold face remained as inscrutable as ever.
Following Mr. Mainwaring's lead, the Italian began by telling how and
why he had first become attached to the service of Count Mellikoff. He
had been sent by the Imperial Chancellerie about a month ago to wait
upon Count Mellikoff as valet. He had not been told in so many words
that he was also to act as a spy upon his master, but he knew this was
what was expected of him. It was the system employed by the
Chancellerie; each one of their agents had a double, whose business it
was to report to headquarters the other's every action, movement, or
word: it was a fine system, because it distributed power irrespective of
rank.
From something he heard at Petersburg, before joining Count Mellikoff,
he had reason to believe that the Chancellerie were not altogether
pleased with the Count's manner of procedure; he was, therefore,
despatched to look after Count Vladimir, and report upon his progress.
He had not been long in New York before he made up his mind that Count
Mellikoff was working on a wrong scent; he knew the nature of the
Count's mission, and he very soon discovered that the Count was not
showing his usual discretion in this case; he was, in fact, taken in by
a lay of circumstances, and by the assurances of the young lady, Miss
James. He had endeavoured, on one occasion, to speak to the Count upon
the subject; but he had been told to hold his tongue; a piece of advice
he strictly adhered to, until such a time when his not holding it would
most injure the Count. No one told him to hold his tongue twice, for
nothing.
Yes, he was ready solemnly to swear that the young lady, Miss Hildreth,
was in no way identical with the fugitive, Adèle Lamien, the murderer of
Stevan Lallovich. He had at one time often seen Adèle Lamien; there was
a strong resemblance between her and Miss Hildreth; but he knew for a
certainty that Miss Hildreth was not Adèle Lamien, and that Adèle Lamien
was, at the time he quitted Russia, in Petersburg, where she still
remained. He did not know this when he first came to Count Mellikoff;
but he did know it for a fact now, and he was quite ready to bear out
this statement; and, what was more, he could prove that Count Mellikoff
was not unaware of this fact; that he had indeed been warned by the
Chancellerie of Adèle Lamien's presence in Petersburg, which had been
sworn to by a member of the council, though, so far, they had not been
able to verify the report. He could not say why Count Mellikoff had paid
no heed to the warning and discredited it; it had come straight enough
to him--Mattalini--and from an unimpeachable source.
Miss James had several times visited Count Mellikoff at his hotel; he
had overheard one of their conversations, he had listened purposely; it
was the conversation in which the manner of Miss Hildreth's arrest had
been planned; it was arranged to take place during the absence of Miss
Hildreth's friends. Miss James had urged Count Mellikoff to greater
haste in the matter; she had seemed consumed with hatred of Miss
Hildreth. Oh, yes, he knew quite well what it meant to hate any one; he
hated Count Mellikoff, and was glad to pay him back for some of his
haughty insolence. He had known from the beginning of the inquiry that
Miss Hildreth was not Adèle Lamien, but he had had no absolute proof of
it until that morning. He had gone to Mr. Mainwaring and told him what
he was now telling his Excellency. Mr. Mainwaring had asked him for
proofs, but he had none then, only the proof of his inward convictions.
Mr. Mainwaring told him that they were no good; but within the last hour
he had got proof, and that proof he wanted to give up now.
Within the last hour a sea-telegram had come for Count Mellikoff; it was
his--Mattalini's--business to receive all telegrams and bring them to
the Count; it was not his habit to open and read them first; but of this
one the yellow envelope was not stuck down--when an envelope was not
stuck down it was no crime to look at the contents. He had done so, and
the first words he saw made him glad he had not been a stupid fool of an
innocent and stuck down the envelope flap, as for a moment he had
thought of doing. The telegram was in cipher, but he knew enough of the
Chancellerie cipher to make it out. It was sent by one Paul Patouchki,
who was the chief of the Chancellerie Council, and it ran to this
effect:
"The woman, Adèle Lamien, arrested this evening in the Nevski. She
attempts no defence. Your presence before the Council peremptory. Return
immediately."
As the Italian finished he drew out of his pocket a thin, crackling,
yellow envelope, indicative of a telegraphic message. He looked at it
fondly for a moment.
"_Eccelo!_" he exclaimed, "'tis a little thing with which to save one
woman's life, and yet big enough to kill another!"
Then he handed the missive up to the Judge, and stood waiting further
developments.
The sensation caused by the Italian's statement was beyond all
precedent; the excitement of the crowd burst all restraints; it seemed
as though, having once doubted Patricia Hildreth, they could not now be
loud enough in vociferating her innocence.
The clamour lasted but a few seconds; but in that short interval
Vladimir Mellikoff caught sight of such a sea of angry, menacing faces,
and heard the echo of such violent threats as to shake even his trained
courage, and warn him of the perilous position he should occupy if once
that public Nemesis was set loose.
The rage and anger of his own heart knew no bounds. To be duped and done
in such a fashion by his own paid assistant; to find out all too late
that a spy had been dogging his actions at every step of the way, and
that that spy had been sent by the Chancellerie--by Patouchki, his
chief, on whose honour he would have staked his own!
This then was his reward, this was Russia's gratitude! A thrust in the
dark, a blow from behind, and he was laid low, unable to defend himself
or fight for his life. He realised all too well what this failure meant
for him--disgrace utter and complete; the Chancellerie never forgot or
forgave a false move in the game, any more than it ever remembered the
many successes and triumphs achieved for it. To fail once was
sufficient, when one had reached so high an altitude as his, and with
failure came a downfall more disastrous and engulfing even than that of
death.
And Olga? But no, he must not think of her now, or he should go mad. He
must forget her, put her by, believe in her, trust her; he must pull
himself together, he must not succumb like the veriest novice before
this blow. Were not all those cruel faces turned upon him, those
hundreds of eyes peering with wonder and delight at him? He must not let
them see any fear upon his face, they must not hear a word of cowardice
from his lips.
Then he became aware of a single voice addressing him, and the sounds
slowly resolved themselves into Judge Anstice's familiar tones, asking
him to examine the cablegram, and state if the Italian's translation of
the cipher was a correct one.
He took the slip of flimsy paper with a hand that never trembled, and
scanned the few bald lines. Mattalini had read them only too correctly,
they were confirmation positive of the utter breakdown of all his
elaborate structure.
He could have leapt upon the Italian then and there in his blind rage,
and struck him to the ground; he could have beaten him senseless and
felt a savage joy in each blow he dealt him. Had he not ruined him for
ever, not only in the eyes of the Chancellerie, but in those of Olga
Naundorff? That was where the lash cut deepest, that was the agony
impossible to bear.
And yet, despite all this mad tumult going on within him, he still was
conscious of standing up and answering Judge Anstice in his usual
controlled voice. The Italian Mattalini had perfectly translated the
cipher, the message ran as he had said. A person called Adèle Lamien had
been arrested in Petersburg; he should immediately demand further
confirmation of the matter; in the meantime he left the custody of Miss
Hildreth in the hands of the Bench. He had no statement to make; he had
acted throughout in good faith and according to instructions; he would
at once communicate what further particulars he received to Judge
Anstice; without doubt his Government's Ambassador would stand surety
for the integrity of his future movements. He begged to return the
cablegram to the keeping of the Bench.
Then he sat down, and after a few moments' whispered conversation with
Mr. Munger and Mr. Mainwaring, Judge Anstice rose and withdrew, and the
crowd were free to force their way out into the streets, flooded with
the golden sunshine, and there to discuss this last change in the day's
excitements. And so ended the second day of what, in after years, came
to be known as Patricia Hildreth's trial.