“SPERNOW”
A night’s reflection brought but slight relief to my anxiety and doubt.
How that wily Russian general had succeeded so easily and promptly in
discovering all about me, I was at a loss to guess; nor was it of much
profit to inquire. He had the facts, and the question was how he would
use them; and the first gleam of an answer came from a very small thing.
He had offered me first three days in which to leave the country, and
then had extended the time to a week. Why? I came to the conclusion at
length that he had probably a double reason, for he was not the man to
do anything without a clear reason. He was all against my joining the
party of the Prince, and was probably resolved to go to extreme lengths
to prevent me. But he knew also, though he had been crafty enough not
to admit it openly, that I was an Englishman; and that fact might well
embarrass him in dealing with me.
Any ill-treatment of a British subject at such a juncture might bring
about just such grave complications with our Foreign Office as might
imperil the whole Russian under-current policy. That was, therefore,
unquestionably one of my strong cards to play, and I resolved to use it
promptly.
I judged that in all probability my correspondence would be tampered
with, and would, if necessary, pass under his own eyes; so I wrote a
letter to a friend in England, stating the fact plainly that I had had
an interview with General Kolfort, the Russian leader, in which the
fact that I was a British subject had been discussed between us, and
added a few words of assumed annoyance that this should have happened,
as it might interfere with my plans in making a career in Bulgaria. I
put in some other general matter such as might be written in a friendly
letter, and finished with a request that my correspondent would send
me two or three articles I had left in his care. This was all fable,
of course; but I wrote it to make it more difficult for the General to
suppress the letter. Then I added a postscript, with the usual sting in
it.
“If you get a chance, you might drop a side hint to Edwardes, of the
Foreign Office, that I am here, and known to be English.”
I sealed the letter with careful clumsiness, so that the envelope could
easily be opened without the seal being broken, marked it “Urgent.
Strictly private,” and then gave it to a waiter to post. If I was under
the surveillance he had suggested, I felt convinced that nothing more
was necessary to ensure its getting immediately into the General’s
hands. It would at least give him food for thought.
Then as to his second object. Why had he given me any time at all? A
Russian party, strong and unscrupulous enough to plan the assassination
of the reigning Prince himself--as they had done--would have thought
nothing of keeping me, a mere Roumanian Count (as I told them I was
when they had me on the previous evening), rushing me off incontinently
to the frontier, and bidding me be off about my business under fear of
a stray bullet should I attempt to return. But he had given me a week
to deliberate, and I drew the inference that he was really anxious to
have an Englishman on his side, and that he meant to use the week to
bring strong inducements to bear upon me.
And through all these reflections one dazzling remembrance flashed,
as the sun will flash through thin foliage after a summer shower--the
great steady glare caught and reflected from a myriad drops on the
wet, dancing leaves. It was the memory of the glorious beauty of the
Princess, with that look of solicitude for me and of fear of the
General which I had seemed to catch.
I had no more desire to fly the country than I had had to leave her
witching presence, and a thousand thoughts rushed through my mind,
bewildering, stirring, fascinating me, and all urging me to stay until
I had at least probed the meaning of her look, and determined whether
I could in any way serve her. If she really stood in need of a friend,
how gladly---- And at that point I broke the thought with a laugh at
my own silly conceit. She had a hundred, aye, a thousand men at her
command. And I was a fool.
But I would not leave the country if I could help it, and I ordered a
horse and rode out, first to see how nearly my house was ready, and
then away for a gallop in the country.
On my return I learned that two officers had called and asked for me;
had left word that, as their business was urgent, they would return
early in the afternoon. I did not know the names--Captain Dimitrieff
and Lieutenant Grassaw--and I could not think what they wanted with me,
but I resolved to wait in for them; and while I was waiting, a servant
brought me a card from another stranger--Lieutenant Spernow.
The moment he entered I liked his pleasant, cheery looks, and
his frank, unrestrained, self-possessed manner impressed me most
favourably. With a smile he offered me his hand, and said:
“I have come in a quite unusual way, Count Benderoff. I am sent, in
fact, to make your acquaintance. I am assured we shall speedily be
friends.”
“I am certainly at your service,” I answered, unable to resist a smile
at his singular introduction.
“It has an odd sound after all, hasn’t it; and yet, do you know, I’ve
been thinking how I should put it and rehearsing, all the way. It does
sound devilish odd from a stranger, but I do hope--for reasons that
weigh infinitely with me, I can assure you--that so odd an introduction
will really lead to friendship.”
“You say you were sent to me?” I asked, cautiously.
“Yes; I assure you I am frankness itself. They never trust me with
important secrets; I blurt them out;” and he laughed, as though that
were rather a good trait. “Old Kolfort sent me--Old Kolfort for one.”
“I saw General Kolfort last evening,” I replied, drily. “But sit down
and have a cigar, and then tell me why he is so interested in providing
me with friends.”
“That’s a good straight question, but I’ll be hanged if I can answer
it. He’s such a sly old fox, with fifty secret reasons for every plain
one. Thanks, I’ll have a cigar. Well, he sent for me this morning--you
know, I am on the Russian tack in all this business, and that for a
reason which I’m pretty sure to let out before I’ve been many minutes
with you; in fact, bound to, come to think of it--and--let’s see,
where was I? Oh, yes; he sent for me, and said, ‘Lieutenant, I have a
pleasant duty for you--and an important one. I wish you to go to Count
Benderoff and make a friend of him--he told me your hotel--and do what
you can to make his stay in Sofia pleasant, as it may be only a very
short one. You’re the best man I know to let him see what’s worth
seeing in the city, and to let him know what’s worth knowing.’”
“It promises to be a very kind act on his part.” I spoke sincerely, and
my visitor smiled at the words.
“It shall be, if you’ll let me, Count, I assure you. But that old fox
always has a bitter wrapped up somewhere in the sweet; and as I was
leaving, after having talked you over, of course, he pretended to
remember something, and said, ‘Oh, by the way, take this letter to the
Count with an apology from me. By an unfortunate mistake it has got
opened by some clumsy idiot, and was brought to me to know what should
be done. Tell the Count I’m very sorry, but perhaps he may not care
to send it for a week or so, after all.’ ‘What is it?’ said I. ‘Of no
consequence; but the little act will be an introduction for you.’ Then
I saw it was one of those infernal things that are always being done in
this country--an intercepted letter, and I felt inclined to fling it in
his face, only I daren’t. I let him have a word or two about choosing
me for such work, but I brought it, and I’m afraid you’ll think I’m
a regular cad to lend myself to such a thing. But I’ll tell you why
I decided to bring it in a minute; and I hope I needn’t assure you I
don’t know a word of what’s inside.”
I accepted his word without hesitation, and believed in his
expressions of disgust at the mission. I took the letter readily
enough, and was indeed glad that my little ruse had succeeded so
completely. Then I gave it a finishing touch.
“I suppose he’ll expect you to report what I said. Well, here’s the
answer.” I struck a match and set fire to the letter, holding it until
it was consumed. “It’s not of the least consequence, I assure you, for
I took the precaution to send off a duplicate in proper disguise.”
“The devil you did. I’m infernally glad to hear it. I love to hear of
old Crafty being licked at his own game.” Then he started and rapped
the table as he laughed and asked: “Was that a decoy? Oh, that’s
lovely. I won’t tell him. I hate the old tyrant, and he knows it; but
he knows, too, that I’m horribly afraid of him. And that’s what he
likes. Gad, that’s good!” and he lay back in his chair and laughed
aloud at the thought of the General being outwitted. “And he was so
damned serious, too, that I know he thought he’d done a mighty smart
thing.”
He was obviously sincere, and it was impossible not to see that he
thoroughly enjoyed what he deemed a good joke. When he had had his
laugh out, he gave a little sigh of relief as he said:
“Well, that’s over, and I hope you’ll acquit me of any personal part in
the matter or humbug.”
“My dear sir, I acquit you of everything except of having done an
unpleasant thing pleasantly,” I answered, cordially.
“Thanks. And now, is your stay going to be very short in Sofia? I must
tell you before you answer that that’s a thing old Crafty told me to
find out. I suppose he has some underground reason or other? He’s a
beggar for that.”
“Frankly, I don’t know. I hope not, but I don’t yet know.”
“Well, I was surprised when he mentioned it, because we’d heard that
you’d taken a big house, and were going to make a bit of a splash, you
know. And, by Jove, it would be a blessing, for most of the houses here
are just deadly dull.”
“‘_We_ heard,’ you say?”
“How quick you are!” he answered with a smile, and he had a slightly
heightened colour as he went on. “Yes, we--we two; not old Kolfort,
you know. But--well, we’ve had a chat about you more than once; and
last night, after you’d been at the General’s house, we had a regular
consultation about you--and, to tell you the truth, that’s another
reason why I’ve come.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“No, of course you don’t. I don’t altogether. I think; but----” He
hesitated, and pulled at his cigar for some moments in a little
embarrassment. “You see, it’s a bit difficult to make you understand
without telling what a man doesn’t care to talk about. I suppose
something happened at the General’s that affected you closely, and made
you--hang it all! Wait a minute, and let me try and think how I was to
put it.”
I smiled again at this, and watched him as he fidgeted with his cigar
somewhat nervously and uneasily.
“You saw the Princess there, didn’t you? I don’t know, but I heard
something or other; and, anyway, she must have been speaking to--to
someone who spoke to me. Doesn’t that sound rather ridiculous?”
But I scarcely heard his question. The reference to the Princess
Christina had set my thoughts whirling at the bare idea that he was in
some remote way a messenger from her, and that she was sufficiently
interested in me to make these indirect inquiries as to my movements
and intentions.
“Yes, I saw the Princess last night,” I said, breaking the pause. “Do
you come from her?” I was astonished at the steadiness of the tone in
which I spoke.
“Well, yes; but yet not exactly--oh, hang it all, I’d better out
with it. I shall only make a mess of things;” and he laughed gaily,
and flushed. “I came to you mainly because I was asked to do so by
Mademoiselle Broumoff, who is one of her closest companions; and
Mademoiselle Broumoff and I are, in fact, betrothed. Now you’ve got it,
Count; and that’s why I fiddled about just now, and didn’t know quite
what to say.”
“I am much mistaken if Mademoiselle Broumoff, whose acquaintance I
shall hope to make, is not an exceedingly fortunate girl, lieutenant;
and I speak without the least affectation when I say that your news
interests me deeply.”
It did, in all truth. To have as a friend someone who was in the close
confidence of the Princess herself, was a stroke of good fortune which
I could indeed appreciate; and I resolved to bind this handsome young
officer to me by all possible bonds.
“The one commission is an antidote to the other, at any rate, I hope,”
said Spernow; “and if it’s any gratification to you to know it, you can
rest assured that the Princess takes a lively interest in you, and for
some reason or other feels herself under some sort of obligation to
you. Frankly, I don’t know what it is; but I do know there are plenty
of our fellows who’d like to stand in your shoes in such a thing. You
can’t think how we worship that woman!” he cried, with a flash of
sudden enthusiasm.
“I can think of no cause for such a feeling of obligation,” said I,
speaking indifferently to hide the tingling glow of delight at his
words.
“Oh, of course. By Jove, I was nearly forgetting,” he exclaimed, with a
jerk, as he plunged his hand into his pocket and brought out a packet
of papers. “Are you engaged for to-morrow night?”
“I? No indeed.”
“Then you’ll be able to come all right. I’ve got you a card for the
ball at the Assembly. It’s a big do; and most of the folks worth
knowing will be there, if you want to know them.”
“Is this from the General?”
“Well, not exactly, though he’ll be glad enough for you to go.
Mademoiselle Broumoff put me up to it.”
“Then I may have the pleasure of seeing her there?”
“Of course, she’s going, rather; and the Princess too. You’ll come?”
“I shall be very pleased. It is just the chance I shall welcome.”
Was this another little personal attention from the Princess, or merely
a development of the policy of winning me to the Russian side? I was
turning this over, and thinking how far I could get the answer from
Spernow, when a servant came to say that the two officers who had
called earlier in the day had returned.
I told the man to show them in, and explained matters to Spernow. He
knew them, he said, but not their errand.
This was soon explained, and caused me no little surprise.
“We come from Lieutenant Ristich,” said Captain Dimitrieff, speaking
very formally and stiffly.
“And who is Lieutenant Ristich?” I asked. “I do not know him.”
“You met yesterday at General Kolfort’s house, and he considers that
you insulted him. Will you be good enough to tell me who will act for
you? The facts have been explained to me.”
“Do you mean that the lieutenant wishes to force a quarrel upon me? I
remember him now, of course; but I know of no insult, and certainly I
have no quarrel with him.”
The captain raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.
“Shall I say, then, that you prefer to apologise?” he asked,
superciliously.
“Certainly not,” I returned sharply, stung by his manner. “What I mean
is that nothing passed which need make another encounter between us
necessary.”
“That is an _impasse_.”
“I cannot help that,” said I, indifferently.
“Well, you must either fight, sir, or refuse to fight; and in the
latter case the lieutenant says he will be driven to the extreme course
of publicly insulting you.”
“This is monstrous,” I answered angrily. “It is nothing less than
forcing a quarrel upon me, as I say. But if that is the lieutenant’s
mood, and he wishes for another lesson in swordsmanship, I’ll give it
him. I have but very few friends here in Sofia, but the matter shall be
arranged without delay. Perhaps----” I looked across at Spernow.
“Can I be of any assistance, Count?” he said, eagerly.
“I shall be deeply obliged if you will. Perhaps these gentlemen will
retire to another room for a few minutes, and then you can wait on
them, and matters can be put in course before they leave the hotel.”
They went, and I explained all that was necessary to Spernow, telling
him that I attached little importance to the affair, and that I had
already proved myself much more than a match for the lieutenant with
the sword; that as the challenged party I should choose swords; but
that the conditions were to be made as little stringent as possible, so
that the fight could be stopped as soon as either was wounded, however
slightly.
He went away then, and when he returned said that he had made all
arrangements, and that we were to meet early the next morning at a spot
just outside the town, often used for the purpose.
“Mademoiselle Broumoff will take a keen interest in this business,
Count,” he said, as he was leaving me later. “Lieutenant Ristich is an
object of her deepest hatred; and so will the Princess for the matter
of that. He is no favourite of hers either.”
“You will say nothing, of course, until it is over; and you will get
a friend to act with you, and perhaps you will both breakfast with me
afterwards.”
“With pleasure. You take it coolly, Count,” he said as we shook hands.