The second complication was a much bigger matter; and it was of so strange a description and fraught with consequences of such critical importance to Olga and myself that of all my experiences of that time it deserves to be classed as the most remarkable. Like all else at that time, it came quite unsought by me, and as the direct and unavoidable consequence of the first step in my new life—the duel with Devinsky and my subsequent repute as a swordsman.
A day or two after Tueski's funeral, and while the city was still quivering and staggering under the effects of the supposed Nihilist blow, a great ball took place at the Valniski Palace.
Count Valniski was among the richest men in Moscow, bidding hard for power and courting popularity right and left among all classes. To this ball all the officers of my regiment were invited, together with many of their friends. Amongst the latter Olga had a card; and although we were certainly in a poor mood for a function of the kind, we felt it expedient to do what all the world was doing, go to it; lest by remaining away we should attract attention to ourselves.
It was a very brilliant affair, as these big Russian balls always are, and the crowd included many of the best and smartest people in Moscow. I moved about the rooms, not dancing much, but exchanging a word now and then with my brother officers and with other people who claimed acquaintance with me.
Olga had plenty of partners among my comrades, and as she was dancing with one of them I stood watching her and thinking how completely I had dropped into the new social grooves of this Moscow life and how quickly my first feelings of strangeness had worn off, when my friend Essaieff came up to me.
"Alexis, I have a commission that concerns you," he said.
"Well?"
"You're in luck. Try and guess."
"Can't," I replied, shaking my head. "Unless the war's broken out and I'm to have a step. What is it?"
"There's a woman in it. High up, too." There were only two women in Moscow I ever thought about; and one of them I wished to see safe out of Russia, and the other at the devil, or anywhere out of my way.
"Give it up," I said, with a smile.
"It's that smile of yours fetches 'em, I believe," said Essaieff, smiling in his turn. "It makes your face one of the pleasantest things in the world to look at." He had ripened quickly into a very familiar friend and we were great chums now.
"What is there you want me to do, old man? You wouldn't waste that flower of speech for nothing."
"Well, something's done it. I have been asked to present you to one of the wealthiest, most beautiful, and most influential women in Moscow—the Princess Weletsky; and asked in terms which seemed to imply that the honour of the introduction would be conferred on her."
"The Princess Weletsky, who is she?" I asked in absolute ignorance.
"That's just like you, Alexis. I'm getting to know that sweet innocence of yours. Whenever I mention a name that all Russia knows, you make the same lame show and ask, Who's he? or, Who's she? You've heard of her a thousand times. You can't help hearing of her. You couldn't if you tried."
"All right," I laughed, to turn my mistake. "Have you been talking about me?" He laughed at the idea.
"Why, man where are your wits? Do you think the Princess and I are on gossiping terms? I'm only the fly on the wheel in this. She wishes to know you; I do know you; she once sent me a card for one of her assemblies and snubbed me in a high bred manner; now she can use me, and accordingly I am paraded for duty—to introduce you. Come along or she'll be getting some Court executioner to cut my throat for loitering."
I followed him, wondering what it could mean; and half a minute later was presented to one of the most lovely and stately women I have ever seen. A queenly woman, indeed, and I should have been an icicle if I had not admired her. She was radiantly fair in both hair and complexion, but her eyes were dark and languishing like a Spaniard's: while the faultless regularity of her features in no way marred the exquisite suggestion of womanly sympathy and mental power which spoke in her voice and manner and glances.
I have seen many lovely women of all types, but in all my life none to compare with the exquisite magnificence of this Russian beauty.
Her reception of me could not have been more cordial, moreover, had I been one of the greatest of Russia's nobles, or had she begun to entertain some strong favour for me. I am not a coxcomb where women are concerned, I hope, and certainly nothing in their treatment of me in my life had led me to conceit myself that such a woman as this would fall in love with me; but her conduct to me that night might well have turned my head, had it not been full of other matters.
I asked for the honour of a dance and she gave me her programme, telling me I might write my name where I would. As it was empty, this seemed a generous invitation; but I scribbled my initials against two dances, and was then going to move off.
She glanced at the programme and smiled. I cannot describe the effect which a smile produced on her face.
"I had purposely kept the next dance for you, Lieutenant," she said. "But I see your reputation has somewhat belied you."
"My reputation?"
"Yes. But I have much I should like to say to you. I have heard of you often; as a daring man even among Russia's most daring; and not always as modest as brave."
"Rumour is often an unreliable witness," said I.
"She has not always spoken kindly of you, Lieutenant. But to see you is enough to test the truth of her tales." She accompanied this with a glance of especially subtle flattery, as she made place for me to sit by her, and then drew me to talk by questioning me, always giving in her answer a suggestion of keen personal interest in me.
We danced that next dance, and she declared that I waltzed better than any man in the room; and at the close of the dance she asked me to take her to one of the conservatories, under the pretext that she was heated. We sat there during two dances, until the first that I had initialled came, and then we danced again.
All the time she fascinated me with her manner and the infinite subtlety with which she implied the admiration she felt for my bravery, my skill as a soldier and a swordsman, my strength—everything in short: while she was loud in the expression of the interest with which she said she should take in my future.
At the close of the dance she sent me to fetch my sister; and when I presented her she made Olga sit down at her side and presently sent me away, saying that women's friendship ripened much more quickly when they were alone—especially if they were interested in the same man. All of which would no doubt have been very sound philosophy—had Olga been my sister in reality.
Essaieff had been watching me, and now chaffed me a good deal about my conquest, and grew enthusiastic about my future.
"By Gad, man, she's as rich as a Grand Duke: and there is no limit to the height her husband may climb. Play your cards well now: and you've got all the pluck, aye, and the brains too, if you like to use them: and you'll be War Minister before I apply for my Colonelcy."
I laughed lightly; but I thought to myself that if he only knew the skeletons in my cupboard that were gibbering and rattling their bones in mockery of me, he wouldn't tell quite such an enthusiastic fortune for me.
When I went back for my next dance with the princess, Olga was just being led away by a handsome young partner whom the Princess had found for her.
"Olga is most delightful," she said, with one of her smiles. "She is worthy of—anyone; and a most enthusiastic sister. She is the most genuine soul I ever knew. She will be my dear friend, when her reserve has worn off." I thought I knew the cause of the "reserve," but I kept the thought to myself.
After the dance she let me take her back to the same place, and glancing at her programme let it fall on her lap with half a sigh.
"You were very moderate," she said, tapping the programme with her fan.
"Do you know the fable of the hungry mouse?" I asked.
"What do you mean?" This with a glance.
"Only that a poor little starveling found himself in a full granary one day, when a fairy bade him eat. He took a few grains and munched them and stopped. 'Why stop there, mouse?' asked the fairy. The little thing glanced about him and looking at the crowd of fatted pets that were watching him suspiciously from a distance, replied:—'If I take more than these gentry think belong to me, they will fall on me; and though I might enjoy the meal at the time, it will prove a dear one and hard to digest.'"
"A shrewd mouse, but too timorsome," said the Princess, laughing, and handing me her programme again. "Take other two grains, mouse. Though I'm not quite sure by the way, whether you intended me to be the good fairy or the bag of grain. Fables are often tricksy things."
"Take another two grains, mouse.""Take another two grains, mouse."
"Take another two grains, mouse.""Take another two grains, mouse."
"Take another two grains, mouse."
"And fairies also. But at least mice are harmless."
"Except to frighten silly women. But I am not afraid of mice—especially when they are so moderate in permitted pilfering."
"The touch of a fairy's wand can change even a mouse to a lion," said I; and when she met my gaze she dropped her eyes and coloured. The dance came then and we danced it almost in silence.
After it I went to look for Olga; but she had gone home; and then I waited impatiently for my next dance with my most fascinating partner.
There is no flattery in the world half so telling on a man as a lovely woman's admiration, undisguised yet not flaunted; and expressed in the thousand subtle ways which her nimble wits can find when inspired by resolve to please.
I did not think that at such a time any woman on earth could have exercised so strong an influence over me in the course of no more than an hour or two; and when we sat together after our last dance for a few minutes before she left, I felt I would have done almost anything on earth that she asked to serve her. Something that she said drew from me a rather random protestation to this effect, and she reddened and started, and then after a rapid searching glance shot into my face, she sat silent, fingering her fan, restlessly. While doing this her programme caught her attention.
She looked at it and held it so that I could read it.
"No name but yours," she said, almost in a whisper. I saw this was so. Then she broke the silken cord by which it was fastened to her wrist, and with another glance at me put it away into her bosom.
It was a little action: but from such a woman what did it not mean? I was amazed.
Another long pause followed.
Then she laid her hand in mine and looked straight at me.
"Are you really a brave man?" she asked. I seemed to take fire under her touch and look.
"That is not a question a man can answer for himself. Test me."
"If your sister were insulted, would you fight for her?" She little knew the cord she had touched, or guessed how the reference cooled me.
"I have already done so," I returned.
"In days of old men fought for any woman who was wronged. Would you?"
"I have done it before now," I answered, still thinking of Olga, and my thoughts for some reason slipped back to the first meeting on the Moscow platform.
She paused and looked away from me for a moment as if hesitating; and then leaning so close to me that I could feel her warm breath on my cheek as she spoke, while her grasp tightened on my arm, she said in a tone of deep feeling:—
"I have been wronged. You see me here as I am and what I am; but save for the happiness you have made me feel in being with you, I am the most wretched woman in all Russia. Will you help me? Dare you?" And she seemed to hang on my words as she waited for my reply, her eyes searching mine as if to read my answer there.
I was about to reply with a pledge inspired by the enthusiasm with which she had fired me, when my instinctive caution restrained me. She was quick to see my moment's hesitation and not willing to risk a refusal, she added hastily:—
"We cannot talk of this here. I ought not to have spoken of it now: but you seem to have drawn my very soul from me. Come to me to-morrow to my house. I will be alone at three. You will come—my friend?" An indescribable solicitude spoke through her last two words, all suggestive of infinite trust in me.
"Certainly," I cried. "And certainly your friend, if I dare."
She answered with a glance; and then seemed to cast aside her excitement. Rising she let me lead her back to the ball-room.
When I left her there were others round us, but as she bowed I caught a glance and the whispered words:—
"I trust you."
I turned away half bewildered, and went home at once, pondering what was to be the upshot of this new development.
When I was alone and the strange charm of the Princess Weletsky's presence had given way to calm reflection, my doubts began to grow. I was naturally a cautious man under ordinary circumstances; and now my suspicions were the keener because my caution had been momentarily lulled to sleep.
I was all inclined to disbelieve the story which the Princess had told, or rather had suggested; and I began to look behind all she had said for some motive or intrigue. I thought she might wish for the help of my sword for some altogether different purpose than she had suggested: but I could think of nothing. Nor could Olga, with whom I spoke very freely on the subject.
She said she could see no more than appeared on the surface; and what that was it was superfluous to ask; especially when she told me that the Princess could, or would talk of nothing else to her but my bravery, my good looks, my courtesy, my chivalry, and so on at great length.
"It is agreeable to have my brother praised," said Olga once, laughing. "But there are limits."
During the next four or five days Olga had ample opportunities of hearing these praises, moreover, as the Princess would scarcely let her out of her sight. When I called on the day following the ball I found the two together, and the Princess in a few words we had together out of my sister's hearing would say nothing at all about the subject of her wrongs. She enlarged on the suggestion of the previous night that she had been led by her impulses and her instinctive trust in me to speak too fully.
For some days she maintained the same attitude of reserve, and then quite suddenly when we were alone, she changed again, and in words which I could not fail to understand she let me know indirectly that if I would avenge her wrongs, her hand would be my reward.
I have never in my life had to face a more awkward crisis than that. What reply she expected I cannot tell: whether she looked for some eager passionate protestations of love, or some strong pledge of defence, or what. Whether she really cared for me and the confusion she shewed was the sign of it, or whether the whole part was assumed and everything mere acting, I cannot say. But I know that I on my part felt indescribably embarrassed and scarcely knew how to answer her.
I knew, too, the danger to Olga and myself of offending a woman so highly placed, so influential, and powerful as the Princess. We had enough troubles as it was: and if they were to be multiplied and aggravated in this way, we should be overwhelmed. It was certain that I must find some way of temporising.
"Princess, I am your devoted servant to do with as you will," I answered. "And if my sword can be of service, tell me how." She started and flushed with pleasure as I said this.
"I knew I should not count on you in vain.
"The Grand Duke Servanieff will now learn that a more stalwart arm than his protects me from his insults." Her eyes seemed to glitter as she watched the effect of this name on me.
"Do you mean that that is the man you wish me to fight?" I cried in the deepest astonishment. He was all but on the very steps of the Throne, and if I had approached him he would have brushed me away into a gaol with no more concern or difficulty than he would have whisked a fly off his hand.
The woman was mad.
"He persists in forcing his attentions on me, and I will not have them," she said.
All my suspicions had been stung into activity by the mention of the name of the Grand Duke; and as I looked at the Princess she appeared to be watching me with quite suspicious vigilance as she added:—"He cannot refuse to meet anyone to whom I give the right to protect me from him."
It was an intrigue. I was sure of it; and this lovely woman was making me her tool.
I answered guardedly.
"A lieutenant in a marching regiment who should presume to challenge that man would stand a better chance of being whipped at the cart's tail than of meeting him."
"He is a great swordsman, I know," she said, as if to pour suspicion on my courage. But I was not a fool to be tripped by a gibe. If I had wished to marry the woman I would have consented readily enough there and then, and risked all; but my object was to get out of Russia and to get Olga out with me.
"I should not fear him were he twice as skilful; but this is no mere matter of sword fence."
"Easy words, Lieutenant."
"I will make them good, Princess," replied I, quietly. "But I must first see the course clearer for the meeting. What say your friends? Can I depend on their influence?"
"Won't you do this for me, then? Am I mistaken in you?" There was a sharp accent of irritation in her tone that I noticed now.
"Princess, it does not best become a beautiful woman to doubt a man's courage until he is proved a craven. Here is no matter of personal courage only; but I should be loosing upon me all the waters of bitterest political intrigue. Alone I should be absolutely powerless to stem the torrents that would sweep me to certain ruin. Alone, therefore I cannot do what you ask. But understand me, give me the powerful support of your family, and I will meet the man, were he fifty times the Highness that he is—if we can arrange the meeting."
She seemed disappointed at this; quite unreasonably so; and tried to move me. But I stood firm, and then with evident reluctance, she told me her brother was with her in the matter, and that if I would see him all would be simple.
"My brother, Prince Bilbassoff, is, as you know, Minister of the Interior, and is now in Moscow in connection with the visit of the Emperor." I had not known who her brother was; but when she gave me the name and told me where I could see him, a rapid conclusion leapt into my thoughts.
Prince Bilbassoff was the real power behind the Police, and I was probably going to find now why Christian Tueski had had to hold his hand against me.
I went at once to see him.
I found him the very opposite of the popular ideal of a bureaucrat—a short, grey, close-haired, spare man, with the air of a man of the world, and a pleasant cheery manner that suggested nothing formidable or even powerful. Yet without doubt the man was in many respects the most powerful and the most feared in all Russia.
He appeared to be expecting me; for the instant I was announced, he got up and welcomed me with a hearty shake of the hand and said:—-
"I thought my sister would have to make us acquainted, Lieutenant Petrovitch. She said she wouldn't; but I expected you. Women think beauty will do everything; and somehow are always calculating without the effects of self-interest. Don't you think so?" He spoke with a sort of easy club mannerism, and just let his eyes rest a moment on my face.
"Of course you know the drift of what has passed then?"
"Of course I do. As well as I know that your coming to me means that my sister's method has failed. I from the first disagreed with it. I know a great deal about you, Lieutenant Petrovitch; and I think I could have saved time. But my sister was attracted to you—women always like you handsome young fire-eaters, especially women like my sister—and as she is to take a rather large hand in the matter, she wanted to play it her own way. She appealed to your feelings, Lieutenant. I should have gone straight to your interest: and really it will be to your interest to do this."
"Will you tell me plainly what is wanted?"
"Certainly. The death of the man whose name has no doubt been mentioned to you."
"Why?"
"Not because he has insulted my sister: though that is fortunately a plausible pretext: but because he is a menace to the Empire."
His bluntness astounded me.
"Do you take me for an assassin?"
"No. I take you for a very resolute young man, with a great skill of fence, a large desire to push your fortunes high, and not too much scruple to act like a sword scabbard between your legs and trip you up. If you weren't that, you'd be no use to me. As you are, I open before you a career such as lies before no other man in the Emperor's wide dominions at the present moment. Do this, and you win a woman as rich and beautiful and, as women go, as good as any in Russia for a wife; and you can ask and have almost what place you like, either in or out of the army."
"And if I refuse?"
He laughed and shrugged his shoulders.
"You won't refuse," he said, shaking his head. "If you do, you will be a young fool—too foolish to be trusted at large."
I knew what he meant; and when I looked at him next, I understood why men feared him. That laugh of his would usher a man to the knout or the gallows.
I thought rapidly.
"I like the project," I replied. "But can you arrange the meeting?"
He was as quick as the devil, and detected the false note in my voice.
"Lieutenant, there are two courses open to you," he said in a tone so sharp, stern and ringing that the change surprised me. "You can accept or refuse the offer—but don't try to fool me."
"Well, then, I'm not a murderer," I rapped out, angered by his words.
"That's better," he said, with a return to his light clubbish manner. "But this is no murder. The man is a traitor: and no juster act could be compassed than his death."
"Then why not do it openly?"
He smiled and threw up his hands.
"Is justice always done openly? Of course we might do that: but he would laugh at our efforts. We might get him assassinated; but he is too powerful and the noise of the act would defeat the very object we have. He is a swordsman worthy of your skill. He has insulted, and will again insult my sister, your betrothed—for what is not an insult when you wish to make it one?—and he would delight to meet you. He will think he can kill you. Perhaps he can: may be, probably; for he is a very devil with the weapon. That is your risk. Will you take it? It's no light one. But you are a young fellow with all to gain in winning and nothing to lose but your life. You will do it, I know. I'm only surprised you hesitate."
I sat thinking: but not in the groove he guessed.
"We'll make your sister's fortune as well," he said, raising the terms. "She shall make a marriage into one of the best families in Russia, and found a family of the highest distinction. Think, Lieutenant."
I was thinking about as hard as I could: but no opening offered itself.
"I must have time to determine," I said. "It seems to me that I run the chance of playing the cat's paw with all the flame for my share. What guarantee have I that if I do this and am successful I shall not then be deemed—too foolish to be trusted at large, as you say?"
"First, my honour; secondly, your betrothal to my sister; and thirdly, her feeling for yourself."
"And if I refuse, Siberia, I suppose?"
"No, not so far as that," he replied, lightly.
"But what if I feign to consent and carry the story to the man you threaten?"
"There is that chance of course. But in the first place he would not believe you, Lieutenant; and in the second, if he did, neither you nor he could do any harm; and in the third, you would have me for an enemy. And I am pleasanter and safer as a friend. I have discounted that risk, and it is nothing."
"How long will you give me to decide?"
"A week. We can then announce the betrothal just before the Emperor's visit here, and gain the Imperial blessing on so righteous a marriage between a brave man and a beautiful woman, each motived by the highest patriotic feelings for Russia."
With this half sneer ringing in my ears, he sent me away.
I went home in a very unenviable frame of mind, and my temper was not improved by my meeting my old opponent, Devinsky, near my rooms.
For the moment I was powerless to think of any possible means of relief. My helplessness was so complete as to be almost ludicrous: and if it had not been for Olga, I would have just let myself be dragged along by the singular chain of events which had coiled themselves round me.
I must rouse myself to some sort of effort for her sake. I saw that, of course. But the result of a couple of hours' thinking was only to increase my utter perplexity; and I went off to bed to try if sleep would clear my wits.
I resolved to see Olga the next day as soon as possible after my regimental duties were over. There was but one thing possible. She must go at once and we must try to hit on some plan by which she could escape at any hazard. But my regimental work was heavier than usual, and when it was over a meeting of the officers was called in reference to the impending visit of the Czar to Moscow. It was thus late in the afternoon before I could get to Olga.
At the house, astounding news awaited me.
The Countess Palitzin met me with the question where Olga was. I looked at her in astonishment; and then she told me a message had come from me early in the forenoon, asking Olga to go round at once to my rooms. She had gone, promising to return soon or send word. She had done neither; and a six hours' absence had made the old lady anxious.
"She should have been back before this," I said, quietly, not wishing to add to her alarm. "Who do you say came for her?"
"Your servant, Borlas, Olga told me."
I tried to reassure her that all was right, though I did not at all like the look of things, and I hurried back to my rooms to question Borlas. He had not been there on my return from barracks, and he was not there now; and there was nothing to shew that he had not been absent for some hours.
Did this mean treachery? Or had Olga been arrested? Could she be in the hands of the Nihilists? Or what? A thousand wild thoughts flashed through my mind as I stood for a minute thinking what I ought to do first, and where to look for her.
Then I recalled my meeting with Devinsky near my rooms.
I dashed out and ran to Essaieff's rooms to find out all he knew about Borlas, as he had recommended the man to me; and to learn whether he would be likely to be bribed to do such an act of treachery as now seemed possible. But my friend was out. Leaving word for him to come at once to me I went on to Madame Tueski and questioned her. She equivocated, suggesting that I was feeling her power; and with the utmost difficulty I drew from her that despite all her hints she knew nothing.
I ran then to the Prince Bilbassoff; but he was away. I hurried next to the Princess; she knew nothing, but was full of sympathy and offers of help.
I wanted news, however, not offers of help; and I rushed back to my rooms, on my way to the police, on the off-chance that Borlas had returned.
He had not: but in his place there was something much more important. A rough, wild looking country-man was standing at my door, holding the bridle of a shaggy pony that bore signs of heavy travelling; and the man had been trying vainly to get into my house. He addressed me, asking where he could find Lieutenant Petrovitch; and then gave me a slip of paper from Olga.
"Am suspicious and sending this back. If anything wrong, follow me. O."
I then questioned the man closely and he said that his wife was called to the window of a carriage to a young lady who was ill. When she had recovered, she gave his wife a handkerchief. In it was the message and a sum of money and a request that it—the paper—should be brought to me at once. This had occurred at Praxoff, about ten miles out on the north road.
In less than a quarter of an hour I was armed and mounted; and a few minutes saw me free of the city and flying at full gallop in pursuit. I knew the road well enough, owing to my long residence as a boy in Moscow; and I now put my horse to its utmost speed and made straight for the house where Olga had seen the peasant woman.
I found it without the least difficulty and got a description of the carriage, horses, and postilion; and I questioned the woman as to every word Olga had said to her and who was in the carriage.
From what she said, I judged it was Borlas, and that the two were alone.
I stayed no longer than was necessary to hear all the woman had to say, and then I rode on still at full speed, asking right and left as I went for tidings of the carriage. The trail was broad enough for anyone to follow for some miles and then I came upon information that gave me a complete clue to the whole matter.
Reining up at a wayside inn, I put the usual questions; adding that the lady was my sister and that I was an officer in the Moscow Infantry Regiment. The landlord came to me instantly.
"You are Lieutenant Petrovitch?" he asked.
"Yes," and I told him my errand.
"Have you been engaged in a duel this morning?"
I stared at the man and asked him what he meant. His answer shewed what story had been concocted to trick Olga.
"A gentleman engaged two rooms here this morning, saying they would be wanted in connection with a duel in the neighbourhood. One of the combatants was Lieutenant Petrovitch; and the latter's sister was coming to be near at hand in case of her brother being hurt. She was coming out with the brother's servant and when she arrived was to be shewn at once to the room engaged for her. As a fact the duel had already been fought in the early hours: Lieutenant Petrovitch had been badly wounded and lay at a private house a few miles further on, too ill to be moved. The sister was to be told this; the news being broken gradually; and she was not to be allowed to leave the inn, unless she insisted very much, in which case the servant would know where to take her; and fresh horses were to be supplied. I told her gently," continued the landlord; "and she insisted on going on at once without even stopping for food. Fresh horses were put in accordingly, and the carriage proceeded with less than half an hour's halt here, all told."
I saw the ruse in a moment. It was to get fresh horses without Olga being suspicious; and to draw in the landlord so as to appear to give the story corroboration.
"What was the man like who came to you?" I asked impatiently, ordering a horse to be saddled instantly. In reply the landlord described Devinsky accurately.
I saw it all now; and when the man had given me a valuable clue to the road which the carriage had taken—it had been met by some returning postboys—I set off again in pursuit in the now gathering dusk, as fast as I could make the new horse move.
I rode on till the dark fell: and still on till the moon rose and flooded the land with her thin light; and it was not until ten at night that I reached the end of my journey. Some peasants gave me the final clue. They had met the carriage and a question had been asked of them as to the whereabouts of a certain house. They told me now where this was, and a few minutes later I reached the place.
It was an old ramshackle house, once the seat of a family of good position but now fallen upon evil days. It made three sides of a square and the courtyard in the middle was all weed-grown, moss-covered and uneven, with one large yew tree standing dark and gloomy in the centre. The main entrance was in the middle portion; and there were two small gothic arched doors in the wings. But these seemed very stout as I examined them; and all the windows were latticed with stout ironwork.
Just the spot for such a venture as this, I thought, as I stole about the place to reconnoitre, treading softly, and keeping as much as possible in the dark shadows which the walls made.
There was not a sound to be heard, nor a light to be seen; while the look of the place made it certain that I should have a hard task to force my way inside. The same unpromising look of things met me when I left the front and crept round to the back and when I had seen all round the house I could not make up my mind what was the best thing to do.
There are times, however, when any kind of action is better than doing nothing. There was everything to be gained and nothing to be lost by Devinsky learning that I had followed him and knew his hiding-place. I resolved on a pretty bold course, therefore, and drawing my revolver I stepped out into the full moonlight and walked quickly to the main entrance.
I had reached to within ten yards of the door when a voice called to me:—
"Who goes there? What do you want? Stop, or I fire."
Looking up I saw the gleam of a rifle barrel levelled dead at me. I did not stop to answer but leaping aside, I darted forward into the doorway, where the man could not cover me with his weapon, because of a shallow porch which intervened to protect me.
I darted forward into the doorway.I darted forward into the doorway.
I darted forward into the doorway.I darted forward into the doorway.
I darted forward into the doorway.
The incident shewed me the sort of welcome I was to expect.
There was an old and heavy knocker on the door, and a huge bell-pull. I seized both these and set up first a knocking that might have roused the dead and then a clanging of the bell equally furious and dinning. Presently the bell ceased to sound and I gathered either that someone within had cut the wires or that I had broken them in my energy. The great knocker suited me equally well, however—perhaps better, as the noise rang out on the still night air, making a fearful din—and if there did chance to be anyone within half a mile of the place they would hear it and might hasten to learn the cause.
Those inside took the same view of the matter, apparently; for suddenly and without my knowing the cause, I found the big heavy door give way before one of my lusty attacks with the knocker; and as I pushed, it swung slowly open.
Everything within was as dark as pitch; and the contrast between the row I had been making and the dead silence that followed was so profound as to make me stand a minute that my ears should get accustomed to the change.
Then drawing my sword and holding my revolver in my left hand, I stepped in and tried to peer about me.
The light of the moon gave a faint reflection within, but not enough for me to be able to make out anything distinctly; nor, when I strained my ears could I detect the slightest sound anywhere.
My first thought was that as I stood in the doorway, I should be an excellent mark for anyone caring to shoot, and I slipped aside therefore, into the heavy shadow of the big door. It was full five minutes before my eyes, keen as they are, could distinguish anything; and then I seemed to make out two doorways, one on each side of a large hall into which the big door opened, and beyond them in the middle a broad stairway.
I groped my way warily a few steps, feeling along the wall, when I stopped and began to reflect that I was making a fool of myself in attempting single-handed and in pitch darkness to find my way about the place. I must wait for a light of some sort. I had no idea how many men there might be in the house. I did not know a square foot of the plans. While I was blundering about in the dark I should be an easy prey for men whom I could as easily fight in the daylight. Moreover I argued that the knowledge that I had tracked him would keep Devinsky from attempting any devilment as yet.
I was in the house; and I resolved therefore to wait patiently where I was in the hall until I had light enough to guide me in my search for Olga.
But I could not keep to the resolution.
Scarcely had I formed the plan when the stillness was broken by a woman's scream, shrill and piercing, and a cry for help that made my heart leap into my throat with wrath as I thought I could recognise Olga's voice.
Without another moment's hesitation, and uttering a loud shout in reply, I dashed forward to where I could see the outline of the stairway, and rushed up in the direction of the cries for help.
Idiot that I was! Of course I rushed straight into the trap that had been laid for me. As I reached the top and turned to dart along a corridor, my feet were tripped and I fell sprawling headlong with a clatter and a dozen oaths to the ground, my sword flying one way and my revolver another; and before I could help myself three or four fellows were upon me, and though I fought and struggled with them and nearly choked one on to whose throat I fastened my grip, I was overpowered and bound securely hand and foot. Then I was blindfolded and gagged, and in this absolutely helpless state, carried down the stairs again, getting on the way two or three hearty kicks from the men I had pummelled. They threw me down on the floor of an empty room and left me.
I cursed my folly bitterly when I heard the fellows' footsteps as they left the room and locked the door behind them. I had spoilt all for the lack of a little caution. I was an idiot, a fool, a numskull, a jackass, to have been caught by a trick which a child might have anticipated; and I rolled about the floor, cursing myself and tearing and pulling at my bonds in my passion, till I had torn the flesh in a dozen places. But I could not loosen a single strand of all the cords that bound me; and I gnashed my teeth and could almost have shed tears in my baffled rage and fury.
I lay thus some hours till the light must have come, for even through the heavy bandages on my eyes, the darkness seemed tinged with grey. As I thought of the use I might have made of the light, my self-reproaches welled up again till I felt almost like a madman.
Later on I heard the door unlocked and two or three men entered. They came and turned me over and holding me firmly, cut the ropes that bound my arms, and then tied my hands behind me in iron handcuffs, drawing them so tightly that I could not move them without pain. When I was so far secured they cut the ropes from my legs and bade me stand up. I tried; but the rush of the released blood brought with it too much pain, and I was just as helpless as a baby for some minutes. When at length I managed to scramble to my feet, they unfastened the bandage from my eyes and as soon as my dazed sight could focus itself, I saw that brute Devinsky looking at me with a sneering laugh.
"So it's you, is it?" he cried, as if in surprise. "Turned robber, eh, breaking into men's houses in the dead of night? And what the devil are you doing here? My men told me there was a thief here, but I didn't expect you."
"Don't lie to me," I cried sternly. "You know well enough why I'm here. Where's my sister. If you're not too damned a coward, get me my sword and let's settle this thing together and at once."
He winced at the taunt, but he didn't mean to fight that way.
"Thank you. I don't fight with burglars. I hand them over to the police—when it suits me. I always thought there was something secret about you; now I know what it is. You've been living by this sort of work I suppose. Officer by day, and footpad by night. I'm glad my men have caught you at last." Then he sent them away; and as soon as we were alone he asked me:—"Do you value you life?"
"Yes, for one reason. To take yours."
"Well, you can have it—if you like to be reasonable."
"I make no terms with a villain like you."
"More fool you," he laughed. "You may as well face the position. You are in my power. This house is big enough and strong enough to hide a regiment, let alone one man. You can't stop me now from carrying out my intention in regard to your sister, by fair means or otherwise; and you may as well make the best of a bad business, and own that I've got the whip hand of you, partly by my luck and partly by your own damned stupidity. I'd rather have you on my side in this matter than against me; but with me or against me you can't stop me. What do you say?"
"This. That the first use I'll make of my hands when they're free shall be to try and choke the life out of you. And by God, I'll try and do it now." In my rage I rushed upon him, but like the cowardly cur he was, he struck me, bound and defenceless as I was, with all his force in the face, and then with a cry brought in the other men. These threw themselves upon me and bore me to the ground, and bound my legs again, so that I was once more absolutely helpless.
"You saw that attack the villain made on me," said Devinsky to the men. "I was offering to release him. You'll bear witness to that. As for you," turning to me, "you can stay here for a few hours more to cool your murderous fever; and I will send back orders for your release, when I am at a safe distance. And, remember, there are strong cellars below; and if there are any more attempts at violence, I'll have you put there."
He went out then with the men and in a moment later returned alone and said in a voice full of rage and hate:—"I'm going through with this, Petrovitch, at any cost—if I have to shut you up here till the flesh rots off your bones. Your sister and I are going further on shortly: and I'll see you once more before I start, and give you one more chance of listening to reason." And with this he left me.
My plight was worse than ever. So far, Olga was safe. That was the only glimpse of comfort in all the miserable situation. It was clear, too, that she was in the house; and though she was still in the man's power, I might yet find some means of helping her.
But how? That was the question. And when I thought of his words that he was going to carry her still further away, I turned sick with rage and loathing.