IN THE MASTER'S NAME.
The _Ariel_, in order to avoid being seen from the town, had made a
wide circuit to the northward at a considerable elevation, and as
soon as a suitable spot had been sought out by means of the
field-glasses, she dropped suddenly and swiftly from the clouds into
the depths of the dense forest through which the Tobolsk road runs
from Tiumen to the banks of the Tobol.
From Tiumen to the Tobol is about twenty-five miles by road. The
railway, which was then finished as far as Tomsk, ran to Tobolsk by a
more northerly and direct route than the road, but convicts were
still marched on foot along the great post road after the gangs had
been divided at Tiumen according to their destinations.
The spot which had been selected for the resting-place of the _Ariel_
was a little glade formed by the bend of a frozen stream about five
miles east of the town, and at a safe distance from the road.
Painted a light whitish-grey all over, she would have been invisible
even from a short distance as she lay amid the snow-laden trees, and
Arnold gave strict orders that all the window-slides were to be kept
closed, and no light shown on any account.
Every precaution possible was taken to obviate a discovery which
should seriously endanger the success of the rescue, but,
nevertheless, the fan-wheels were kept aloft, and everything was in
readiness to rise into the air at a moment's notice should any
emergency require them to do so.
It was a little after three o'clock on the Thursday afternoon when
the _Ariel_ settled down in her resting-place, and half an hour later
Colston and Ivan Petrovitch appeared on deck completely disguised,
the former as a Russian fur trader, and the latter as his servant.
All the arrangements for the rescue had been once more gone over in
every detail, and just before he swung himself over the side Colston
shook hands for the last time with Arnold, saying as he did so--
"Well, good-bye again, old fellow! Ivan shall come back and bring you
the news, if necessary; but if he doesn't come, don't be uneasy, but
possess your soul in patience till you hear the whistle from the road
in the morning. I expect the train will get in sometime during the
night, and in that case we shall have everything ready to make the
attempt soon after daybreak, if not before.
"If we can get as far as this without being pursued we shall come
right on board. If not we must trust to our horses and our pistols to
keep the Cossacks at a distance till you can help us. In any case,
rest assured that once clear of Tiumen, we shall never be taken
alive. Those are the Master's orders, and I will shoot Natasha myself
before she goes back to captivity."
"Yes, do so," replied Arnold. His lips quivered as he spoke, but
there was no tremor in the hand with which he gripped Colston's in
farewell. "She will prefer death to slavery, and I shall prefer it
for her. But if you have to do it you will at least have the
consolation of knowing that within twelve hours of your death the
Tsar shall be lying buried beneath the ruins of the Peterhof Palace.
I will have his life for hers if only I live to take it."
"I will tell her," said Colston simply, "and if die she must, she
will die content."
So saying, he descended the little rope-ladder, followed by Ivan, and
in a few moments the two were lost in the deep shadow of the trees,
while Arnold went down into the saloon to await with what patience he
might the moment that would decide the fate of the daughter of Natas
and the man who had gone, as he would so gladly have done, to risk
his life to restore her to liberty.
Rather more than half an hour's tramp through the forest brought
Colston and Ivan out on the road at a point a little less than five
miles from Tiumen.
Colston was provided with passports and permits to travel for himself
and Ivan. These, of course, were forged on genuine forms which the
Terrorists had no difficulty in obtaining through their agents in
high places, who were as implicitly trusted as the Princess Ornovski
had been but a few months before.
So skilfully were they executed, however, that it would have been a
very keen official eye that had discovered anything wrong with them.
They described him as "Stepan Bakuinin, fur merchant of Nizhni
Novgorod, travelling in pursuit of his business, with his servant,
Peter Petrovitch, also of Nizhni Novgorod."
Instead of going straight into the town by the main road they made a
considerable detour and entered it by a lane that led them through a
collection of miserable huts occupied by the poorest class of
Siberian mujiks, half peasants, half townsfolk, who cultivate their
patches of ground during the brief spring and summer, and struggle
through the long dreary winter as best they can on their scanty
savings and what work they can get to do from the Government or their
richer neighbours.
Colston had never been in Tiumen before, but Ivan had, for ten years
before he had voluntarily accompanied his father, who had been
condemned to five years' forced labour on the new railway works from
Tiumen to Tobolsk, for giving a political fugitive shelter in his
house. He had died of hard labour and hard usage, and that was one
reason why Ivan was a member of the Outer Circle of the Terrorists.
He led his master through the squalid suburb to the business part of
the town, which had considerably developed since the through line to
Tobolsk and Tomsk had been constructed, and at length they stopped
before a comfortable-looking house in the street that ends at the
railway station.
They knocked, gave their names, and were at once admitted. The
servant who opened the door to them led them to a room in which they
found a man of about fifty in the uniform of a sub-commissioner of
police. As Colston held out his hand to him he said--
"In the Master's name!"
The official took his hand, and, bending over it, replied in a low
tone--
"I am his servant. What is his will?"
"That Anna Ornovski and Fedora Darrel, the English girl who was taken
with her, be released as soon as may be," replied Colston. "Is the
train from Ekaterinburg in yet?"
"Not yet. The snow is still deep between here and the mountains. The
winter has been very severe and long. We have almost starved in
Tiumen in spite of the railway. There has been a telegram from
Ekaterinburg to say that the train descended the mountain safely, and
one from Kannishlov to say that we expect it soon after ten
to-night."
"Good! That is sooner than we expected in London. We thought it would
not reach here till to-morrow morning."
"In London! What do you mean? You cannot have come from London, for
there has been no train for two days."
"Nevertheless I have come from London. I left England yesterday
evening."
"Yesterday evening! But, with all submission, that is impossible. If
there were a railway the whole distance it could not be done."
"To the Master there is nothing impossible. Look! I received that the
evening I left London."
As he spoke, Colston held out an envelope. The Russian examined it
closely. It bore the Ludgate Hill post-mark, which was dated "March
7."
Colston's host bent over it with almost superstitious reverence, and
handed it back, saying humbly--
"Forgive my doubts, Nobleness! It is a miracle! I ask no more. The
Tsar himself could not have done it. The Master is all powerful, and
I am proud to be his servant, even to the death."
Although the twentieth century had dawned, the Siberian Russians were
still inclined to look even upon the railway as a miracle. This man,
although he occupied a post of very considerable responsibility and
authority under the Russian Government, was only a member of the
Outer Circle of the Terrorists, as most of the officials were, and
therefore he knew nothing of the existence of the _Ariel_, and
Colston purposely mystified him with the apparent miracle of his
presence in Tiumen after so short an absence from London, in order to
command his more complete obedience in the momentous work that was on
hand.
He allowed the official a few moments to absorb the full wonder of
the seeming marvel, and then he replied--
"Yes, we are all his servants _to the death_. At least I know of none
who have even thought of treason to him and lived to put their
thoughts into action. But tell me, are all the arrangements complete
as far as you can make them? Much depends upon how you carry them
out, you know, to say nothing of the two thousand roubles that I
shall hand to you as soon as the two ladies are delivered into my
charge."
"All is arranged, Nobleness," replied the official, bowing
involuntarily at the mention of the money. "Such of the prisoners,
that is to say the politicals, who can afford to pay for the
privilege, may, by the new regulations, be lodged in the houses of
approved persons during their sojourn in Tiumen, if it be only for a
night, and so escape the common prison.
"We knew at the police bureau of the arrest of the Princess Ornovski
some days ago, and I have obtained permission from the chief of
police to lodge her Highness and her companion in misfortune--if they
are prepared to pay what I shall ask. It has come to be looked upon
as a sort of perquisite of diligent officials, and as I have been
very diligent here I had no difficulty in getting the
permission--which I shall have to pay for in due course."
"Just so! Nothing for nothing in Russian official circles. Very good.
Now listen. If this escape is successfully accomplished you will be
degraded and probably punished into the bargain for letting the
prisoners slip through your fingers. But that must not happen if it
can be prevented.
"Now this has been foreseen, as everything is with the Master; and
his orders are that you shall take this passport--which you will find
in perfect order, save for the fact that the date has been slightly
altered--from me as soon as I have got the ladies safely in the
troika out on the Tobolsk road, put off the livery of the Tsar,
disguise yourself as effectually as may be, and take the first train
back to Perm and Nizhni Novgorod as Stepan Bakuinin, fur merchant.
"The servant you can leave behind on any excuse. From Novgorod you
can travel _viâ_ Moscow to Königsberg, and, if you will take my
advice, you will get out of Russia as soon as the Fates will let
you."
"It shall be done, Nobleness. But how will the disappearance of
Dmitri Soudeikin, sub-commissioner of police, be accounted for?"
"That also has been provided for. Before you go you will pin this
with a dagger to your sitting-room table."
The official took the little piece of paper which Colston held out to
him as he spoke. It read thus--
Dmitri Soudeikin, sub-commissioner of police at Tiumen, has been
removed for over-zeal in the service of the Tsar.
NATAS.
Soudeikin bowed almost to the ground as the dreaded name of the
Master of the Terror met his eyes, and then he said, as he handed the
paper back--
"It is so! The Master sees all, and cares for the least of his
servants. My life shall be forfeited if the ladies are not released
as I have said."
"It probably will be," returned Colston drily. "None of us expect to
get out of this business alive if it does not succeed. Now that is
all I have to say for the present. It is for you to bring the ladies
here as your prisoners, to see us out of the town before daybreak,
and to have the troika in readiness for us on the Tobolsk road. Then
see to yourself and I will be responsible for the rest."
As it still wanted more than two hours to the expected arrival of the
train, Soudeikin had the samovar, or tea-urn, brought in, and Colston
and Ivan made a hearty meal after their five-mile walk through the
snow. Then they and their host lit their pipes, and smoked and
chatted until a distant whistle warned Soudeikin that the train was
at last approaching the station, and that it was time for him to be
on duty to receive his convict-lodgers.