CHAPTER XVIII.MISSING.
Whenthe day was far spent and there was still no sign of M. de Lambert, I began to share Madame de Brousson’s solicitude. That he could be again duped when he knew that Najine was miles away, seemed improbable, but I could expect almost any folly from his impetuosity. Pierrot had been out in search of him, but without result, and came back manifestly disquieted, for years had not dulled his suspicion of the Russian. He told me too that he had seen Tikhon in the vicinity of my quarters, and I saw that he suspected some plot to make away with M. Guillaume. This seemed improbable to me, because of the czar’s order for his departure, for it would be unnecessary to deal summarily with the young man until he failed to obey the instructions. However, I became uneasy and, ordering my horse, took Pierrot and started for Prince Dolgoruky’s house. I could, at least, observe the prince, and learn something of his designs, especially if he had really interfered with M. de Lambert. We rode at a smart pace, and in a few moments I was dismountingin the courtyard. While he did not assume the state of Mentchikof, Dolgoruky belonged to the older boyars, and there was more of the ceremony of twenty years before about his household. I was ushered into his presence by an old Russian attendant who had probably performed that office in the family for fifty years. The prince was not alone, but surrounded by a group of friends, and, to my discomfiture, attended by Zotof, who, I fancied, smiled a little at my entrance. His presence disconcerted me, suggesting, as it did, an intimate relation between the two, and therefore strengthening the probability of Dolgoruky’s interference with my friend. However, I put a bold face upon the matter, and, waiving the formal courtesy of the occasion, spoke to the point, inventing a story for the purpose of entrapping him.
“I come on a pressing errand, prince,” I said at once. “M. de Lambert, a gentleman of my suite, left my house this morning at a summons from one of your household and has not yet returned. His presence being imperative at my quarters, owing to a message from his Majesty the Czar, I came here to inquire for him. Doubtless you can tell me where he is.”
Dolgoruky stared at me with an astonishment that was either genuine or exceedingly well feigned; then, turning to his friends, he exclaimed,—
“I call you to witness, gentlemen, the extraordinarydemand of M. de Brousson. He asks me to produce a French soldier whom I have not seen for at least a fortnight and then at the palace.”
“M. de Brousson is a very extraordinary person,” remarked Zotof, calmly. “He demands M. de Lambert at your hands, and yet refused to account for my niece, Najine Alexeievna, when she visited his wife.”
“Then let us make a bargain, M. l’Ambassadeur,” said Dolgoruky, smiling; “if you will produce Najine Zotof, we will endeavor to find M. de Lambert.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I am not a magician, gentlemen,” I said dryly, “but I must account to the king my master for an officer of his household troops, in the person of Guillaume de Lambert. King Louis loves not an injury offered to any true Frenchman.”
The Russians looked at me intently. I was standing before them, my hat in my hand, and my cloak still thrown across my shoulders, armed and booted as I had ridden, and I was measuring them with a certain scorn of their ability to dupe me, yet curious too as to their own estimate of the situation, for I no longer doubted that they knew something of M. de Lambert.
“All honor to the King of France,” Dolgoruky replied suavely; “long may he live and learn to stand with Russia against the madman of Swedenand the Turk! Why should I desire to offend his Majesty?”
“Nevertheless, the king will be gravely offended, Prince Dolgoruky,” I said calmly, “if I cannot account for this young man who has served with conspicuous gallantry in the armies of France.”
“Am I his keeper, M. l’Ambassadeur?” exclaimed the prince, tartly. “Why do you demand a hot-headed boy at my hands?”
For a moment I did not reply. I wished my words to have additional weight, and I let a silence intervene and then spoke with deliberation.
“I asked him at your hands, prince,” I said, “because you have set a spy upon him for two months and more. It was your man, Tikhon, who dogged his steps before Apraxin joined the pursuit and attempted to assassinate him. I am responsible for his life, and am compelled to demand your aid in my search for him.”
Dolgoruky’s face flushed deeply at my words, and I saw that he was struggling with a passionate impulse to reply with violence, and his anger was reflected in the faces of his friends. But he had much at stake and was something of a diplomat; before I finished speaking, he had smoothed his brow and was looking at me with candid reproach.
“You do me foul injustice, M. le Vicomte,” he said plaintively; “how have I deserved such treatmentat your hands? My assistance you shall have. Tikhon shall go with you into every corner of Moscow, to search for this young gentleman.”
He had assumed the only tone possible to evade my importunity, and I was astonished at the ease with which he played the injured party. I could not quarrel with so passive a foe, and was forced to accept Tikhon for what he was worth as a guide. I had no authority to search Dolgoruky’s house, and indeed doubted that he would attempt to detain M. de Lambert there.
So it was that, baffled in my intention of taunting him into an acknowledgment of his work, I left his house as quickly as possible to prosecute my search, accompanied by Tikhon, who rode along sullenly enough with Pierrot, for he probably still remembered the day when M. de Lambert had stretched him on the pavement of the Grand Square of the Kremlin. In truth, I scarcely knew what use to make of the silent Russian, who protested an ignorance as great as his master’s, but whom I suspected of considerable malevolence, for he was not the man to forget or forgive.
We rode back rapidly to my quarters to inquire if M. de Lambert had returned in the interval, and, finding that he was yet absent, went on upon our errand. The improbability of his voluntarily staying so long away now that Najine was absent was palpable enough, and I had no longer any doubt that he had met with foul play. We hadsearched every quarter where he was likely to visit, with the result of receiving repeated assurances that he had not been seen that day, and I was deeply disquieted. The dusk was gathering, and we rode back upon our tracks in an aimless fashion. I had ordered my two attendants in front, and was riding several yards behind absorbed in troubled thought. We were below the Kremlin, on the bank of the Moskva, and so lost was I in meditation that I started when my horse shied at the sudden appearance of a man before him. The stranger laid his hand on my bridle, and I drew my pistol, thinking him some cut-purse.
“You stop me at your peril, knave,” I said harshly, wrenching the rein free.
“Do not shoot, sir!” he exclaimed, and I knew his voice at once; it was the Swedish spy.
“You took a serious risk,” I remarked, putting up my weapon; “what would you have from me?”
“You are searching for M. de Lambert,” he said quietly; “I have heard of it. That man Tikhon knows something—and also, monsieur, Apraxin is here again.”
I started; these were evil tidings, for I looked upon him as an assassin. The Swede’s knowledge did not astonish me, since it was his business to acquire information, and his devoted gratitude had already been proved. I leaned from my saddle and spoke to him in a low tone.
“I thank you,” I said; “learn all you can, forI fear that he has met with foul play. They desire his absence or his death.”
“Compel yonder man to speak, M. le Vicomte,” he said earnestly, “and I will do my best. One good turn deserves another;” and with these words he slipped back behind the shadow of a low building, and I rode on.
He had scarcely detained me five minutes, but the others had gained upon me and were quite a way in advance, so that as I went I had time to formulate a plan for learning something definite from Tikhon. After a while I rode faster and, overtaking them, ordered them to proceed to the Zemlianui-gorod by way of a lonely lane with which I was familiar. It was now quite dark, and the quiet of the hour and the place suited my purpose. When we had reached the loneliest spot, I called Pierrot to me under the pretence that my saddle needed a tighter girth, and thus found an opportunity to whisper a word or so in his ear. Tikhon had halted and was waiting in sullen acquiescence, when Pierrot and I rode forward, one on either side of him, and, Pierrot seizing his horse’s rein, I pressed my pistol to his temple. He was taken unawares, and for the moment, I think, was badly frightened.
“We have had enough of this child’s play,” I said sternly, “and now you can tell us where to find M. de Lambert or you can die—like the miserable wretch that you are.”
“I know nothing,” he replied stubbornly; “it will avail nothing to kill me.”
“Tush, man!” I exclaimed sharply, “a spy is never so ignorant. You cannot escape me. Either take me to M. de Lambert, or tell me where to find him.”
“I can do neither,” he retorted, in the same sullen tone, gaining courage because I did not immediately execute my threat. “I know nothing, nor does the prince my master.”
“Probably you know how to say your prayers,” I remarked dryly, “in which case you had better say them, for you have only about five minutes to live. I give you so much space to choose between confession and eternity.”
He did not reply. I think he only just began to believe that I was in earnest. He was not a coward, but the touch of cold steel thrills even a strong man. There was no chance of escape for him; we were in a desolate spot, and the night grew intensely dark. There was no sound as we sat there on our horses but their occasional restive movements. Pierrot held his bridle with an iron grip, and I had covered him with my weapon. A pistol-shot more or less would not be noticed in Moscow, and death stared him in the face. In the silence I could hear his breath coming short and thick, and knew his heart was failing him. He could not see my face, and I smiled in the darkness. It would not be necessary to use violence.He was struggling hard with himself, and I had no doubt that he had cause to fear the result of a confession. Dolgoruky, of course, had bound him to fidelity, and it was possible that he saw death as an alternative on either hand, for the prince would never pardon the betrayal of his trust, and he must have placed great confidence in this man or he would not have permitted him to go with me. The minutes passed, and Tikhon was silent, still doubtless hoping for rescue. The stillness was oppressive; the city was strangely quiet, only, far off, a cathedral bell tolled twice from the Kremlin. Once more I raised and levelled my pistol.
“The time has expired,” I said quietly. “I shall count three before I fire, therefore be prepared for eternity.”
Still he did not speak; he had a stubborn courage which was slow to yield.
“One,” I counted, tightening my grip upon my horse’s rein, for it seemed as if the fool was determined to rush upon his fate and I was losing patience.
“Two!”
I heard him draw his breath with a gasp.
“Wait!” he cried thickly.
It had come at last, but I carried things with a high hand.
“Do not trifle,” I exclaimed sternly, “you are facing death; speak the whole truth.”
“You are a hard man,” he said in his sullen voice. “I am likely to die in either case, but I am not prepared now.”
“Be quick!” I cried with impatience; “where is M. de Lambert?”
“Where he is not likely to escape so easily,” he answered, with a certain vicious triumph in his tone; “he is in a guard-room of the Kremlin.”
I started; something in his tone convinced me that he spoke the truth, and I was not prepared for it.
“He could not be there without the czar’s order,” I exclaimed, “and I have his passports.”
“He was committed by the czar’s officers,” he replied.
“And you betrayed him into their hands,” I said fiercely.
“I did not,” he replied boldly; “not that I bore him any good-will, but I had no need to do more than watch. Zotof’s relative, Apraxin, did the work.”
“Ah!” I ejaculated, “where is the miserable coward?”
“Truly, I know not,” Tikhon said bluntly; “he is a sullen boy for whom I have no love. He has doubtless taken care to escape your vengeance.”
“Not if he is in Moscow,” I said sharply, all the while thinking of some way out of the difficulty.
“Are you satisfied, M. le Vicomte?” he askedafter a moment; “am I at liberty to live, having betrayed my trust?”
“If what you have told me proves true, you are safe,” I replied slowly; “if it is false, you will answer for it. Let go his rein, Pierrot, and ride with him to my quarters, and let him not escape your close surveillance until I order his dismissal. I have another errand.”
I watched them ride away until their dark figures became parts of that other darkness, and then, turning my horse’s head, made all speed to the Kremlin.