The news I heard from Prince Bilbassoff wrought me to a higher pitch of excitement than anything that had ever happened in my life. I was in a very highly strung condition, and my nerves were no doubt greatly wrought upon as the result of the stirring events of the previous few days. That may have rendered me unduly susceptible to this new development.
Be that as it may, I went out of the Prince's presence filled with a spurring desire to kill the man who as it seemed to me was planning my ruin in this most treacherous manner.
The view I took was that this Grand Duke was moved by the double motive of personal anger on the score of my affair with Alexandre Durescq and of a feeling of insecurity on account of the knowledge I had of his Nihilism. I knew too much to be trusted. The issues were so tremendous, the decision I had to make so full of moment, and the time for me to choose my course so short, that my wits had need to be at their sharpest.
I had out my horse and went for a hard gallop—one of the best prescriptions I know of to clear a tangled judgment. It acted now. As I rode at hot speed my thoughts began to settle; and then gradually a scheme occurred to me, wild, desperate, and hazardous at best, and fraught with fearful risks to others beside myself; but yet if successful, offering me what I wanted above all—complete deliverance from the whole of my present difficulties.
My first thought in all was for myself. Not for the Emperor, nor the army, nor Russia, nor any big interests—for myself and for my escape from the country whose most unwilling guest and compulsory servant I was. Had I been a Russian officer in reality, I could have taken but one course—disclosed the Nihilist plot, or so much of it as I knew, and thus have checkmated the whole devilish business at once. Had I ever received any particular mark of favour at the hands of the Government or the country, gratitude would have urged me to take the same course.
But I owed nothing to a soul in all Russia. Everyone had tried to use me as a tool. The Colonel of the regiment had begun by making use of my quarrel with Durescq to humiliate Devinsky. The officers, almost without exception, had swaggered over me contemptuously until my skill as a swordsman shewed them the price of contempt might be death. The Nihilists had first tried to assassinate me, and only when I had seemed to serve their ends with more daring and secrecy than any other man among them, had they turned with a demand for more sacrifices; while this Grand Duke, apparently one of the chief of them, was even now planning to get rid of me. Prince Bilbassoff was in the same list; and without a doubt would have shut up both Olga and myself on Paula Tueski's accusation, had he not wished to hire me as an assassin. Everywhere I turned it was the same.
What then did I owe to Russia that I should think of any single consideration except my own safety and welfare?
The question which I asked myself therefore, was whether I could plunge my hand into this seething cauldron of intrigue and murder and pluck out my own safety.
A word from me would foil the whole Nihilist plot, and the Czar would make his entry into Moscow in due form and time. But how should I profit? Supposing the Nihilist calculations were correct, and I was appointed to the section of the line where the "accident" was to happen, I should have to contrive obstacles and make difficulties which would in all probability draw down on me the suspicions of the whole Nihilist crew. Add that element of suspicion to the feeling which the Grand Duke already entertained and was inculcating into others, and what chance was there of my escaping either open ruin or assassination?
Assuming that I did escape even, what should I gain? I was tied to Russia by the word I had passed to the Prince, and could not hope to be set free from it until I had either fought the Grand Duke, or until the Prince was convinced that the duel was impossible. But as the Duke looked on me as nothing less than a pestilential traitor to the Nihilist cause, was it likely that he would consent to meet me? Certainly not. Even if we added the cause which the Prince had suggested—the spurious betrothal to the Princess—I should get no benefit. The Grand Duke would merely regard that as an additional reason for having me removed secretly from his path.
All this meant therefore, that even if I thwarted the plot in this way, I should be kept in Russia and apart from Olga, until the Grand Duke consented to fight me; or, in other words, until his emissaries had convinced themselves that they could not manage to assassinate me. Nor was it probable that that conviction would come until they had made a series of unsuccessful efforts.
A pleasant prospect, truly!
On the other hand, if I did nothing and allowed the infernal plot to be carried through and the Emperor murdered, it would mean death to me; certain death. As the officer placed in charge of the section of the line where the deed would be done, who had allowed the murderers disguised as soldiers to mix with my troops; who had actually posted them at the very spot where the train was to be derailed; and who above all was already suspected of Nihilist intrigue; I was certain of conviction, even without the Grand Duke's special animosity. Add that, however, and the result was as dead certain as that night alternates with day.
If I was to escape, therefore, it must be by a shrewd stroke dealt by myself alone and for myself alone. And such a stroke it was that suggested itself in the course of that ride.
Briefly, it was to allow everything to go forward right to the very supreme moment, and then by personal effort to save the Emperor's life by my own hand in such a way as to draw the Imperial attention directly on myself.
I thought I saw how it could be done: and when I turned my horse's head homeward I rode at a slower pace, meditating all the details of the plan with the closest attention. The Nihilists had told me enough to shew me how to act; and my sense of fair play urged me to use the knowledge for my sole advantage, and without involving a single Nihilist in danger by open denunciation. I was a Nihilist against my will; and though I had been forced into the plot, I was altogether opposed to telling what had been told to me in this spirit of confidence. At the same time I was a Russian officer, almost equally against my own seeking, and so long as I preserved the Emperor's life I need not regard other matters as a Russian officer would.
By the time I reached my rooms I had my plans shaped, and my scheme developed; and my accustomed mood of calm, wary self-possession had returned.
I changed and went to the club. The place was crammed with the officers stationed in Moscow and their friends who had been sent into the city on special duty in connection with the Czar's visit on the following day. Everyone was in the noisiest spirits. Good news had come of the prospects of war. All believed that on the next day the Little Father would make a ringing war speech that would render peace impossible; and many of the men were talking as though the sword had already leapt from the scabbard, and a million men, tramping warwards, were already driving the scared Turks before them, like husks before the winnowing fan.
I lounged about the place, exchanging a word now and then with one or another of my acquaintances, and I saw some of the youngsters stop their war babble as I passed and whisper to their companions, and the latter would turn and look in my direction. I was fool enough to be pleased at these little indications of the changed feelings with which in scarcely more than a month I had made my fellow-officers think and speak of "that devil Alexis."
More than once I smiled to myself as I thought what a bomb-shell would be exploded in the room if they were all told the hazardous secret which filled my thoughts just at that moment.
"To hell with the Turk, Alexis," cried Essaieff, catching sight of me and stopping me as I moved past.
"May the Sick Man never recover!" I returned, answering in the form that was then in vogue with us all.
"Drink, man, drink," he cried, excitedly, thrusting a glass of some kind of liquor to me. It was evident he had been toasting the war pretty freely. "Sit here with us. Take it easy, man, now while we can. We've a long march ahead before we catch a glimpse of the minarets of Constantinople. Gentlemen, here is a Russian of whom you will hear much when the war comes. Lieutenant Petrovitch of ours, gentlemen, my particular friend, and as good a fellow as ever held a commission. You can do anything with him, except quarrel; then, damme, you must look out for yourself, for there isn't a man in Moscow, nor I believe in Russia, can get through his guard; and as for shooting, God! I believe if a single devil of a Turk shews only the shadow of an eyelash round the corner of a fortification, he'll hit him with a ricochet. 'That devil Alexis,' he is to us; and if the devil's only half as good a fellow as this, I'll be content for one to serve him."
"I've heard of Lieutenant Petrovitch," said one of the men, as he bowed to me ceremoniously and lifted his glass in response to Essaieff's toast.
"Then you will know how to discount the exaggerations of my good friend Essaieff," said I, quietly.
"On the contrary, I knew Durescq."
"Is Lieutenant Petrovitch the officer who was in that matter?" asked another, shewing great interest in me at once.
"I should think he is," cried Essaieff, noisily enthusiastic. "It was in this very room that the thing occurred. I'll tell you...."
"Essaieff, my dear fellow, I'd much rather not," I interrupted; and turning to one of the officers I asked:—"Do you really think the war will come now?" But Essaieff would not let me change the subject.
"War come? of course it will; but this is something much better than war just now," he burst in. "Several of us thought there was mischief in the air when we saw Devinsky and Durescq together, and I was standing there, waiting for...."
"Excuse me," I interrupted, rising. "I wish to speak to a man I see over there; and really I can't stand Essaieff when he gets on this theme," and with that excuse I left.
Wherever I went there were the same signs of revelry, excitement and pleasure. All were anticipating a really splendid gala day on the morrow, with gaieties, festivities, balls, receptions, concerts, levees, everything that society deems life worth living for to follow.
I went away very early. I had to keep my nerves as firm as cold steel, and the noisy ruffled atmosphere of this place with its crowd of gesticulating, laughing, excited men, and the drink that was circulating so freely, formed the worst of all preparations for such a day as the morrow would be for me and the task I had to perform.
Before going home I strolled through one or two of the broader streets; and everywhere I went I could not fail to observe that while the unusual throngs of people in the streets reflected the feelings of rejoicing that had animated the officers whom I had just left, and that all Moscow was slowly going mad with anticipative excitement, the number of police agents was multiplied many times over. The leaven of suspicion embittered everything; and, as no one knew better than I, with what terrible cause. As I mingled with the great, jostling, bantering crowd I found myself speculating how the majority of them would decide such an issue as that which had been bewildering me; and the wild task I had for the morrow made me feel like a thing apart from everyone of them—an alien not only in race, but in every attribute and aspiration.
The contact with the crowd helped in a way to strengthen the decision I had made. I was one against all these thousands; fighting by myself for my own hand against desperate odds, and with none to help me in a single detail.
When I reached my rooms I went at once to bed, knowing that every minute of rest had its value as a preparation for the work of the following day. I had made my resolution, formed my plans, thought out even the details. I had gauged the risk and knew full well that the probabilities were all against my being alive on the following night.
But this at least was equally certain—if I lived and was free I would have won my way out of Russia.
These were the thoughts that filled me; and so occupied was I with them that it was not until I purposely put them away from me in order to get to sleep, that I recalled how little I had thought of Olga during the whole of that eventful day.
She was in my thoughts when I fell asleep, however: and her face cheered me in my dreams.
I was up very early on the morning of the Czar's visit. We had a parade at 6.30 to receive final instructions; and as I walked to the barracks I was in high spirits, buoyant, self-confident, and alert—much as I had felt on the morning of my duel with Devinsky. I could not have been in better tone.
The morning air was very fresh and clear and the sunlight fell everywhere upon flags, decorations, triumphal arches, and the rest of the festal preparations for the great holiday to which work people were busy putting the final touches.
Everybody seemed in the highest spirits. Laughter and jest and a pleasant interchange of greetings rang on the air on all sides of me; and the whole city seemed to be already wreathed in smiles.
My brother officers came straggling up after I had reached the ground, and more than one of them shewed abundant signs of the previous night's carouse; looking as though a couple more hours' sleep were sadly wanted. Headaches abounded among them, and more than one regarded me with a sort of comical envy because I was not dull-eyed, pale, nor unrested. They took it for granted that I had drunk as deeply as they, and set down my steady head as one more proof of my prowess. Some men can always see something of a hero in the man who can drink heavily and yet shew no signs of his dissipation.
When the Colonel came and we fell in, there was a disappointment for me. My new plan was based on the correctness of the Nihilist information—that I should have the command of the troops guarding the section of the line where were four alder trees; and I reckoned confidently upon hearing from the Colonel of the alteration in the original plans.
But no announcement of the sort was made. On the contrary, as soon as the troops had fallen in, the arrangements which had been announced on the previous day were repeated; and I found that instead of being told off to take charge of the railway to the north of the city, I had to pass the whole day in guarding the Western Gate and the road for some distance on either side of it. I was ordered to parade my men at eight o'clock and to march straight to the place of guard.
I went home to breakfast, disappointed and disgusted. I didn't care a jot about missing the sightseeing, but I was angry that the plan on which I had now set my heart had failed; and that instead of being able to strike a vigorous blow for my own freedom I should have to pass the hours dawdling about doing nothing more than a sort of police work in keeping order among a crowd of gaping, staring, gawky, country yokels.
I was in an exceedingly ill temper therefore when I returned to the parade ground to start on my most unwelcome and unpalatable task.
But I found the whole place in complete confusion and uproar, and the first words I heard were that the whole plan of the day's work had been altered; that the troops had been changed and interchanged in a most perplexing manner; that regiments and companies and even odd files of men had been mixed up in the greatest apparent confusion; and that not one of the original commands remained unaltered.
I hurried to the Colonel for my orders, and found him cursing volubly and with tremendous energy at the infinite confusion the alterations had caused. But he found me my orders readily—he was a splendid disciplinarian—and when I read them I marvelled indeed at the extraordinary exactness with which the Nihilists had been able to anticipate matters.
My command was changed to the guarding of the three mile stretch of line outside the Vsatesk station, commencing a thousand yards to the north of that point. I was to train out at once; post my men at 25 yards distance; and allow no one to approach the line for two hours before the coming of the Imperial train, and until half an hour after it had passed; the time of its passing being given confidentially as 2.45—two hours later than had been originally fixed for the actual arrival in Moscow. More than that, the men under my command were not to be drawn solely from my own regiment, but from no less than three others, all specified, who were to meet me at the station.
As I read these instructions I saw in them the influence of someone who must be both near to the Throne and intimately acquainted with the whole Nihilist plot. The object of classing together under one command men taken suddenly from different regiments was a master-stroke of treachery for this particular work. Apparently it prevented any collusion among any disaffected regiments, but in reality it opened the way for the five assassins to get into the ranks without the least suspicion; while the meeting at the railway station, probably urged as a necessity to save time at the moment when the plans had been all changed, must have been in fact designed solely for the purpose of the plot.
He who was secretly behind all this was no ordinary man. That was clear. And I saw that in pitting my wits against his, seeing that he already had the Imperial ear, I should have to be wary indeed, if I wished to avoid a fall. But I did not shirk the contest: and now that I knew I was really to have the chance, I clenched my teeth in desperate resolve.
After incalculable trouble and much irritating delay, I got together the small company that came from my own regiment and marched them to the railway station. I halted them and looked round for the detachments that were to join me. I posted my men in a place that would lend itself well to the Nihilists joining them. The three detachments of men reported soon after my arrival, each in charge of a sergeant; and when I had ascertained the train by which we were to travel—a matter of no small difficulty in the indescribable confusion that prevailed, I moved the whole two hundred to the platforms.
I had seen nothing of the Nihilists, so far, and this caused me some surprise. But on the platforms the order of the ranks could not be maintained and when about half of my command were entrained, I was addressed by one of a file of five men who reported that he and his comrades had been told off to accompany me; and he produced written instructions to that effect.
I glanced at the order and saw that it was sufficiently in form to enable me to take the men with me, and while pretending to study the paper I looked searchingly at each of the men. They were a daredevil set, in all truth, but they stood in their uniforms with as much military air as the average Russian rankers.
I assumed an air of great vexation, and rapping out an oath, loud enough for all about me to hear, I called up the sergeant of my own regiment and telling him the men had been sent to join me, and cursing them and everybody in general for the interruption, told him to find places in the train for them. In this way everything went smoothly, and we were soon gliding out of Moscow for the short run, while I sat back alone in the first-class compartment which I had had reserved for myself.
I had still some slight preparations to make, and wished to be alone to think. First I examined my arms carefully. I looked to every chamber of my revolver. Each bullet might mean a life before the day was three hours older. Next, I looked to my sword. It was the same that had seen me through my trouble with Devinsky and I knew it as a man learns to know the feel of his walking stick. Lastly, I had a long deadly looking dagger; the sheath fastened to the right hip of my trousers where it could be drawn with the greatest ease. As a final reserve I had in a small secret pocket a couple of pills—poison enough to kill half a dozen men. I meant to make a quick end of things if they went wrong with me.
Satisfied that everything was in order, I lay back and mapped out again the exact disposition of the men in my charge: and the precise course I meant to take at the critical moment. I was still occupied in this when the train drew up at the little station, Vsatesk; and in less than half an hour later, I had reached my section and begun to post my men and was looking about me for the four alder trees and the exact spot where I had been warned to take my post.
Knowing what I did about the Nihilist intentions, it was obviously unnecessary to pay much heed to any part of the line except that where I knew the "accident" would happen. So I sent out a couple of sergeants to dispose the men on that part of the line which lay to the north of the four trees.
These were easily found, and I carried out to the letter the Nihilist instructions to post the five men who were to kill the Czar, immediately to the right, or south, of the line formed by the three trees as described to me.
I did this for the simple reason that it was my cue to deceive everyone right up to the last moment. Had I altered the disposition of these men they would have known that I meant treachery to them and to the cause; and what the consequences would have been it was impossible to foresee. As it was they took their places with a grim readiness, and a significant glance that spoke to me eloquently.
As soon as all the troops were placed I took my own position and, girding up my patience to wait for the coming of the Imperial train and with it my opportunity, I scanned every inch of the line for some evidence of the Nihilists' preparations. I could not detect a sign of any change in the road or of any preparation of any kind. The track was not very well laid, and in several spots it bore signs of recent repairs; but beyond that there was nothing. This fact may have helped to conceal the work of the Nihilists, of course; but although I knew almost the very spot where it had been carried out, I could detect nothing.
The suspense was trying indeed; and while I was waiting, it was natural enough, perhaps, that my imagination should be chiefly busy in suggesting many reasons why I was almost bound to fail in my desperate venture.
I did not know in which train the Emperor would travel. I knew of course that there would be first the pilot engine; there would also be the baggage train; probably also a special train for the suite and servants; and the Imperial train. But this might be first, second, or third of the three. I had not been told as to this. So far as my Nihilist work was concerned, it was not necessary that I should know it. That work began when the train had left the line; and I had been posted near where that must happen. I concluded therefore, that I had not been trusted with a single jot more of information than it was deemed necessary for me to have.
I should have to depend upon the Nihilists who were to move the lever being accurately informed on this point. But this troubled me. If the worst happened, of course the "accident" must take place and the train be sent off the line, and I must use my opportunity then. What I wished to do was to stop the train in which the Emperor would travel; but if I did not know which that was, I might easily make an ugly blunder that would expose me to danger from the Nihilists and not only do me no good with the Court, but mark me out as an object for ridicule and suspicion.
This uncertainty did not present itself to disturb me until I was actually on the line waiting for the coming of the trains, and face to face with the necessity for action.
The point where I stood was about a mile and a half to the north of the station and the line was so dead straight, that it could be watched for five or six miles farther north, and I should thus have ample notice of the approach of the trains. It was a very clear day moreover; and as my sight was exceedingly keen and good, I knew I should be able to catch the earliest glimpse of the trains whose passing meant so much to me.
I managed to get the whole of the company under my command posted more than two hours before the Emperor was timed to pass; and after I had made a show of inspecting those who were guarding that part of the section which I knew to be outside the sphere of danger, I did the work very thoroughly with those who were in that part where the grim, hazardous drama was to be played.
I had been careful to keep the men of my own regiment close to me and on both sides of the five Nihilist spies; and I was glad to see that many of them were among my staunchest admirers. They would have followed me to death without a word; and the sergeant, whose name was Grostef, the most athletic fellow in the ranks, was my sworn champion, on the ground that I was the only man in the regiment who could outrun, and outjump him, and beat him with any weapon he liked to pick. I believe the fellow loved me for my strength and skill.
The time dragged a bit for the patient fellows on guard who were not near enough to exchange a word without the sergeants being pretty sure to hear it; and the eyes of all soon began to be cast longingly northward in impatient desire to catch a glimpse of the trains. Almost the only men who shewed no signs of feeling were the five to whom the coming of the train meant, as they knew and were content to know, the coming of death also. They stood like stone figures: impassive, immovable and stern: the type of men to whom death in the cause of duty is welcome.
An hour before the time, I took up my position finally exactly in the line of the three alder trees, and resolved not to move again nor to have my attention drawn away from the rails until the work was over; and I only lifted my eyes now and then from the track to send a sharp, quick glance along the line to see if the train were yet in sight.
The first intimation I had that the trains were getting near came from the opposite direction. Between us and the Vsatesk station about half a mile distant, was a signal box, and the light wind which was blowing from the south carried to my ears the sharp smack of the signal arm as it fell from the danger point, and signalled the line all clear.
I knew then it was a matter of minutes. My pulse began to quicken up slightly; and my scrutiny of the track and rails increased in intentness. But the minutes dragged on and the announced time came and passed. I knew of the Czar's passion for punctuality, and after this delay had lasted some time I began to think a genuine accident must have caused it. In this weary suspense, a quarter of an hour, half an hour, three quarters passed, and my watch shewed 3.30, and still not a sign of even the pilot engine was visible.
Then a tiny black speck in the far straight distance, topped by a small white steam cloud told me the pilot engine was coming at last; and in the swift glances spared from my scrutiny of the rails, I saw it grow larger and blacker as it covered the intervening space, until it thundered up, and crashed and lumbered by us and began to fade in the opposite direction disappearing round the slight curve which was between us and Vsatesk station.
What the interval would be between the pilot engine and the first train, and what that first train would be, I did not know. The intervals always differed; sometimes five minutes, sometimes ten, sometimes as much as twenty minutes were allowed to elapse. But the interval was nothing compared with the question—which train would follow. On that might turn the whole result of the affair.
All the men had now straightened up, and even the five on my right shewed signs of being interested. I saw them looking up with stealthy, longing, deadly fixedness for the coming of their prey.
But on the line itself there was no sign of change.
I had understood that at some point the rails would be shifted so as to throw the train off the line. But search as closely as I would, I could not detect the least sign of any preparation for this. The uncertainty which this circumstance caused added to my excitement and the suspense became doubly trying. It quickened up to a climax when I saw once again in the distance the growing black speck with the white crown, that told me the second train was at hand.
I kept my eyes glued to the rails and my ears strained to catch the first notification either by sight or sound that the trap had been laid. Without such a sign, I dared not do anything.
Yet nothing happened; and the black speck in the distance developed into a distinct shape, and increased quickly in size, and a slight hum came vibrating along the rails. The hum grew into the sound of muffled drums; then swelled to a heavy threatening rumble; and rapidly climaxed to a crashing, rattling, reverberating roar, as the clattering clanging jolting baggage train lurched heavily by, and roared away southward.
It passed safely every point on the line; and the old question which would be next recurred with greater strain than before, and drummed itself in on my brain like a sharp throbbing shoot of pain.
When for the third time the little warning speck in the distance told me that either the Czar or his suite must now be coming, my excitement waxed well nigh out of control; my hand stole on to the hilt of my sword and loosened it in the scabbard, my fingers played on the stock of my revolver, and my eyes never for an instant left the rails, but ran up and down them with swift eager searching glances, hungry for a sign.
As the distance between me and the on-coming train lessened, the tension increased and my sense of baffled impotence, when I detected no sign anywhere on the rails, was staggering. By a great effort only could I prevent myself from doing something to stop the approach of the train and my eagerness was multiplied infinitely when, in a glance which I could not keep from straying to the murderous gang on my right, I saw them one and all making ready stealthily for their deadly work.
But no sign on the track gave me my cue for action, and I could only wait, full of my resolve to do all that had to be done should this be the train to be thrown off the line.
It came thundering up and passed me without my being able to take a step of any sort. Like the other it passed along the whole section of the line in safety, though I saw, with an astonishment that for the moment bewildered me, that the Imperial saloon was the central carriage.
Obviously the Czar had passed in safety. And I jumped instantly to the conclusion that for some reason the mechanism, which was to have derailed the train, had failed to act.
But an incident which occurred almost as soon as the train had passed, shewed me the falseness of this conclusion.
I was still staring fixedly at the track, when at a point that was exactly opposite me, and thus in a direct line with the three alder trees, I saw the two rails swing aside from the track, just enough to turn a train off the rails that was travelling over the place. There was scarcely a click of sound: and, after a moment they swung back as silently into position.
I read the whole thing in a moment.
The operator knew that the moment had come for action and wished to make quite sure that the mechanism was in due order. The sight increased infinitely the oppressive weight and strain of the suspense. I knew now that the Czar was in the third train, and that the Imperial carriage had been sent on with the second as a ruse.
I knew too, that the supreme hour of my struggle was at hand, in all grim reality.
I could now relieve my eyes from the straining task of watching the track, and I looked about me. The five men to my right were also on the alert. They had not been misled by the ruse of the empty court carriage, and were waiting in deadly readiness to strike the blow which they had come out to deal.
Then I turned my eyes northward along the straight level track, and just as I did so I caught in the distance the first glimpse of the third train, in which I knew, as certainly as if I could already see him, that the Czar was travelling.
As the train loomed nearer and the moment for action approached, my spirits rose also. Uncertainty was at an end. A few minutes would decide whether I was to live or die.
I braced myself for the biggest effort of my life.
I was like a man whose nostrils expand as they breathe in the scent of deadly fight.
Though I did not now care whether the rails were disturbed again or not, seeing that I knew where the mechanism was and could point to my having discovered, as the reason for what I was about to do, I kept glancing at the spot, while I let the train approach unchecked near enough to have all eyes drawn to my actions.
I guessed the distance which the brakes would take to act and when the train had reached a point such as I judged necessary, I sprang on the track between the rails and waving my arms excitedly, thundered out at the top of my voice a warning to stop the train.
This was taken up by the soldiers who repeated the shouts and cries, and a moment later the shrieking whistle of the engine told us the warning had been heeded and that the brakes were on at full pressure.
With a succession of whirring, grating, rasping, grinding jerks the train slackened quickly, and in a moment everything was plunged in indescribable commotion. The soldiers on both sides began to close in on the fast stopping train.
"Close ranks round the whole train," I shouted to Sergeant Grostef: and ordered him away to bring up the men as quickly as possible.
But I had made one miscalculation that was nearly proving fatal to everything. When I sprang on the line to stop the train, the rails had not been moved, and even now for some reason they remained in position. I had calculated to cause the train to be stopped so that it would reach the false points at a slow pace, and thus be derailed close to where I stood. I judged that the jerk with which the train would leave the line would be sufficient to bring it to a standstill, but not enough to overturn it; and I should thus be able to get at once to the presence of the Emperor, and tell my story in person at the moment when he would be most affected by the occurrence. But as the rails remained in position—owing probably to the fact that the man operating them had seen that the train had been stopped and deemed it best to do nothing—there was nothing to stay the train's progress, except the brakes.
To my horror I saw it pass me with just about sufficient speed to carry it right into the middle of the five men who were waiting there to murder the Emperor.
With a loud shout to the men nearest to me to follow I dashed after it, making sure as I ran in which carriage was the Emperor.
The first of the five men planted himself right in my path, and fired his revolver point-blank at me when I was only three or four paces from him. He missed and then drew his sword to engage me. With scarcely a second's delay I cut down his sword arm and a second slash at his neck as I ran past, sent him reeling down the embankment, all but headless, with the blood spurting from the fearful wounds I had inflicted.
My one thought was now the Emperor; and I saw that the other assassins had discovered him in the train as quickly as I.
One of them stood with a bomb, ready poised in his hand, intending to hurl it right into the carriage. I tore it from him and threw it with all my force over the embankment and then plunged my sword into the villain's heart.
I tore it from him.I tore it from him.
I tore it from him.I tore it from him.
I tore it from him.
The bomb exploded the instant it touched the ground below, and the effects were perfectly awesome. There was a prodigious roar; the earth reeled as if under a heavy blow, and a number of the soldiers were thrown to the ground; the train seemed to be shaken bodily: and before the reverberation of the explosion ceased, the splintering of wood and the crashing of glass, told of desperate injuries to some of the carriages.
The saloon carriage in which the Czar travelled suffered most, and it was so violently shaken that the windows were broken, the sides split, and the doors jammed.
It was a moment for strong heads; and, thank God, I was able to keep mine.
The three surviving Nihilists were among the first to shake off the effects of the shock, and two of them made instantly for the door of the Czar's carriage.
His Majesty had been at the window and must have seen me tear the bomb from the man's hand; but the shock had driven him away now. Glancing round I saw Sergeant Grostef and one or two more of my men had recovered themselves and were running towards us. Seconds meant lives now; and I dashed forward and sprang upon the steps of the carriage after the two who were striving with might and main to tear the door of the saloon open. It was partly jammed by the effects of the explosion, and was being defended by two men, who to my surprise were His Majesty's only companions in the saloon. I learnt the reason for this afterwards; another instance of the damnable treachery which hedged the Emperor round.
Those inside were like children before the maddened Nihilists; and the door was wrenched open and the Czar's companions shot down but not killed, just as I reached the carriage platform. I shot one of the Nihilists instantly, but I believe the other would have succeeded in his deadly purpose had it not been for Sergeant Grostef who entered the carriage on my heels. He dashed forward and threw himself on the second man and both went to the ground in a fearful struggle.
The Emperor, though as brave as a man could be, was for a moment in complete bewilderment. Caught weaponless and menaced by what seemed certain death, his nerves all unhinged by the explosion, his companions struck down before his face, he had rushed away in an effort to escape from what looked like a hellish snare, and was seeking to fly by the other door, when the fifth of the murderous crew attacked him with drawn sword. Seeing the man in uniform, the Czar believed that the whole of the guard had mutinied and meant to murder him.
"Is there no one to help me?" he cried, looking round.
"Yes, to hell," growled the man, with a grim quip, as he rushed upon him.
I had dropped my sword in entering the saloon, and my revolver had been dashed out of my hands, so that I could do nothing but fling myself before the Emperor, and give my body to save his.
I dashed in between them, uttering a loud and violent shout, in the hope of attracting the man's attention to me. But he was too grim a devil to be turned from his work; and the only effect of my interference was to impel him to greater efforts.
But he was too late.
Taking a liberty with his Imperial Majesty, which at another time might have cost me my freedom and perhaps my life, I pushed the Emperor violently on one side, and threw myself upon his murderer.
The thrust that was meant for the Emperor, passed through my neck, and I rejoiced as I felt the man's steel run into my flesh. I had saved the Emperor's life, even if I had lost my own. Then I called to Grostef as I felt the villain draw out the steel and saw the light of unsated murder lust redden his eyes.
With a desperate effort I seized his blade, and though it cut and gashed my hands through and through as the man tugged and twisted it to wrest it from me, I held on till the villain put his foot against my chest and dragged the weapon away, despite my most desperate effort. Then he drew it back to plunge it into the Czar's heart. But at that moment I saw Grostef's great blade swing in the air with tremendous force, and sever the miscreant's head from his body.
But the Czar was safe: and as I rolled over near his feet, I rallied all my strength for a last effort and cried:——
"God save your Majesty."
After that I had a dim feeling that good old Grostef and the Emperor were both bending over me trying to staunch the blood that came flowing from my throat and mouth, choking me, from the wound which the villain had meant for the Emperor. But I had saved him and he had seen I had saved him.
"Who is it?" I heard the Czar ask.
"Lieutenant Petrovitch, your Majesty, of the Moscow Infantry Regiment," answered the old soldier.
"Your Majesty, I implore you, take care. You are in an ambush of Nihilist villains," cried some one stepping forward hastily. "I know that man"—pointing to me—"he is the most dare-devil rebel of them all, and has planned this business for your assassination. For God's sake have a care. This is the most devilish snare that was ever vainly laid."
The Emperor moved away from me quickly and looked in the deepest perplexity from one to another of the group who had now crowded into the carriage.
"That is a strange thing to hear," said His Majesty. "The man has just saved my life at the infinite hazard of his own. You see him. But for him and for this good fellow"—waving a hand toward old Grostef—"the thrust you see there would have been in my heart."
"Yet I pledge myself to prove what I say. You know I do not speak at random. They are probably together in this."
Old Grostef growled out a stiff oath that was lost in his beard and then without releasing my head which was supported on his knee, he brought his hand to the salute and said gruffly:——
"Nihilist or no Nihilist, your Majesty, the lieutenant will soon be a dead man, choked by his own blood if his wounds are not dressed."
"There will be one traitor the less, then," said the man who had accused me, accompanying the words with a brutal sneer.
"Oh the contrary, Grand Duke," said the Emperor angrily, "his life is my special care. If he be a traitor it seems to me I should pray to God to grant me thousands of such traitors in my army."
"God save your Majesty, and Amen to that," cried old Grostef, unable to keep his tongue between his teeth at that, and positively trembling in his excitement.
"Silence," said the Emperor. "And now let all haste be made to get on to the city."
"As your Majesty pleases," said the man whom I guessed was the Grand Duke against whom Prince Bilbassoff had warned me. "I will make good my words, and we will save the life to take it."