Читать книгу The Price of Power - Le Queux William - Страница 4

At Her Highness’s side I had strolled through the smaller salon and along the several great corridors to the splendid winter garden, on the opposite side of the palace. It was one of the smaller courtyards which had been covered in with glass and filled with high palms and tropical flowers ablaze with bloom. There, in that northern latitude, Asiatic and African plants flourished and flowered, with little electric lights cunningly concealed amid the leaves.

Several other couples were seated there, away from the whirl and glitter of the Court; but taking no notice, we halted at two wicker chairs set invitingly in a corner. Into one of these she flung herself with a little sigh, and, bowing, I took the other.

I sat and watched her. Her beauty was, indeed, exquisite. She had the long, tender, fluent lines of body and limb, the round waist, the deep chest and small bust, the sturdy throat of those ancient virgins that the greatest sculptors of the world worshipped and wrought into imperishable stone. She was not very tall, though she appeared so. It was something in pose and movement that did it. A beautiful soul looked from Her Highness’s beautiful eyes whenever she smiled upon me.

I found myself examining every line and turn and contour of the prettily-poised head. She was dark, with that lovely complexion like pure alabaster tinted with rose sometimes seen in Russian women. Her eyes, under the sweeping lashes, seemed capable of untold depths of tenderness. Hers was the perfect oval of a young face across whose innocent girlishness experience had written no line, passion cast no shadow.

“One thing I’ve heard to-day has greatly pained me,” I said presently to my dainty little companion. “You’ll forgive me for speaking quite frankly – won’t you?”

“Certainly, Uncle Colin,” she replied, opening her big eyes in surprise. “But I thought you had brought me here to flirt with me – not to talk seriously.”

“I must talk seriously for a moment,” I said apologetically. “It is in Your Highness’s interests. Listen. I heard something to-day at which I know that you yourself will be greatly annoyed. I heard it whispered that Geoffrey Hamborough had killed himself because of you.”

“Geoffrey dead!” she gasped, starting up and staring at me, her face blanched in an instant.

“No. He is not dead,” I replied calmly, “for as soon as I heard the report I sent him a wire to Yorkshire and to the Travellers’, in London. He replied from the club half an hour before I came here.”

“But who could have spread such a report?” the girl asked. “It could only be done to cast opprobrium upon me – to show that because – because we parted – he had taken his life. It’s really too cruel,” she declared, and I saw hot tears welling in her beautiful eyes.

“I agree. But you must deny the report.”

“Who told you?”

“I regret that I must not say. It was, however, a friend of yours.”

“A man?”

I nodded in the affirmative.

“Ah!” she cried impatiently. “You diplomats are always so full of secrets. Really you must tell me. Uncle Colin.”

“I can’t,” was my brief reply. “I only ask you to refute the untruth.”

“I will – at once. Poor Geoffrey.”

“Have you heard from him lately?” I asked.

“You’re very inquisitive. I have not.”

“I’m very glad of that,” I answered her. “You know how greatly the affair annoyed the Emperor. You were awfully injudicious. It’s a good job that I chanced to meet you both at the station in Moscow.”

“Well,” she laughed, “I was going to England with him, and we had arranged to be married at a registrar’s office in London. Only you stopped us – you nasty old thing!”

“And you ought to be very glad that I recognised you just in the nick of time. Ten minutes later and you would have left Moscow. Think of the scandal – the elopement of a young Imperial Grand Duchess of Russia with an English commoner.”

“Well, and isn’t an English commoner as good, and perhaps better, than one of these uniformed and decorated Russian aristocrats? I am Russian,” she added frankly, “but I have no love for the Muscovite man.”

“It was a foolish escapade,” I declared; “but it’s all over now. The one consolation is that nobody knows the actual truth.”

“Except His Majesty. I told him everything; how I had met Geoffrey in Hampshire when I went to stay with Lady Hexworthy; how we used to meet in secret, and all that,” she said.

“Well now,” I exclaimed, looking straight into her face, “I want to ask you a plain open question. I have a motive in doing so – one which I will explain to you after you have answered me honestly and truthfully. I – ”

“At it again!” cried the pretty madcap. “You’re really not yourself to-night, Uncle Colin. What is the matter with you?”

“Simply I want to know the truth – whether there is still any love between Geoffrey and yourself?”

“Ah! no,” she sighed, pulling a grimace. “It’s all over between us. It broke his heart, poor fellow, but some kind friend, at your Embassy, I think, wrote and told him about Paul Urusoff and – well, he wrote me a hasty letter. Then I replied, a couple of telegrams, and we agreed to be strangers for ever. And so ends the story. Like a novel, isn’t it?” she laughed merrily.

My eyes were fixed upon her. I was wondering if she were really telling me the truth. As the Emperor had most justly said, she was an artful little minx where her love-affairs were concerned.

Colonel Polivanoff, the Grand Chamberlain of the Court, crossed the great palm-garden at that moment, and bowed to my pretty companion.

“But,” she added, turning back to me, “people ought not to say that he’s been foolish enough to do away with himself on my account. It only shows that I must have made some enemies of whom I’m quite unaware.”

“Everyone has enemies,” I answered her. “You are no exception. But, is it really true that Geoffrey is no longer in your thoughts?” I asked her very seriously.

“Truth and honour,” she declared, with equal gravity.

“Then who is the fortunate young man at present – eh?”

“That’s my own secret. Uncle Colin,” she declared, drawing herself up. “I’ll ask you the same question. Who is the lady you are in love with at the present moment?”

“Shall I tell you?”

“Yes. It would be interesting.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Ah?” she cried, nodding her head and laughing. “I thought as much. You’ve brought me out here to flirt with me. I wonder if you’ll kiss me – eh?” she asked mischievously.

“I will, if you tempt me too much,” I said threateningly. “And then the report you’ve spread about will be the truth.”

She laughed merrily and tapped my hand with her fan.

“I never can get the better of you, dear old uncle,” she declared. “You always have the last word, and you’re such a delightfully old-fashioned person. Now let’s try and be serious.” And she settled herself and, turning to me, added: “Why do you wish to know about Geoffrey Hamborough?”

“For several reasons,” I said. “First, I think Your Highness knows me quite well enough to be aware that I am your very sincere friend.”

“My best friend,” she declared quickly; her manner changed in an instant from merry irresponsibility to deep earnestness. “That night on the railway platform at Moscow you saved me making a silly fool of myself. It was most generous of the Emperor to forgive me. I know how you pleaded for me. He told me so.”

“I am your friend,” I replied. “Now, as to the future. You tell me that you find all the Court etiquette irksome, and that you are antagonistic to this host of young men about you. You are, in brief, sorry that you are back in Russia. Is that so?”

“It is so exactly.”

“And how about Prince Urusoff – eh?”

“I haven’t seen him for fully three months, and I don’t even know where he is. I believe he’s with his regiment, the 21st Dragoons of White Russia, somewhere away in the Urals. I heard that the Emperor sent him there. But he certainly need not have done so. I found him only a foolish young boy.”

Her Imperial Highness was a young lady of very keen intelligence. After several governesses at home, she had been sent to Paris, and afterwards to a college at Eastbourne – where she was known as Miss Natalia Gottorp, the latter being one of the family names of the Imperial Romanoffs – and there she had completed her education. From her childhood she had always had an English governess, Miss West, consequently, with a Russian’s adaptability, she spoke English almost without a trace of accent. Though so full of fun and frolic, and so ready to carry on a violent flirtation, yet she was, on the other hand, very thoughtful and level-headed, with a keen sense of humour, and a nature extremely sympathetic with any person in distress, no matter whom they might be. Hers was a bright, pleasant nature, a smiling face, and ever-twinkling eye full of mischief and merriment.

“Well,” I said, looking into her face, “I’ve been thinking about you a good deal since you’ve been away – and wondering.”

“Wondering what?”

“Whether, as you have no love for Russia, you might not like to go back to England?” I said slowly.

“To England!” she cried in delight. “Ah! If I only could! I love England, and especially Eastbourne, with the sea and the promenade, the golf, and the concerts at the Devonshire Park, and all that. Ah! I only wish I could go.”

“But if you went you’d fall in love with some young fellow, and then we should have another scandal at Court,” I said.

“I wouldn’t. Believe me, I wouldn’t, really, Uncle Colin,” she pleaded, looking up into my face with almost childish simplicity.

I shook my head dubiously.

“All I’ve told you is the real truth,” she assured me. “I’ve only amused myself. Every girl likes men to make love to her. Why should I be so bitterly condemned?”

“Because you are not a commoner.”

“That’s just it. But if I went to England and lived again as Miss Natalia Gottorp, nobody would know who I am, and I could have a really splendid time. Here,” she cried, “all the glitter and etiquette of Court life stifle me. I’ve been bored to death on the tour round the Empire, but couldn’t you try and induce the Emperor to let me go back to England? Do, Uncle Colin, there’s a dear. A word from the Emperor, and father would let me go in a moment. I wish poor mother were alive. She would soon let me go, I know.”

“And what would you do in England if you went back?”

“Why, I’d have my old governess, Miss West – the one I had at Strelna – to live with me, and I’d be ever so happy. I’d take a house on the sea-front at Eastbourne, so as to be near the old college, and see the girls. Try what you can do with Uncle Alexander, won’t you? there’s a dear old uncle,” she added, in her most persuasive tones.

“Well,” I said, with some show of reluctance, “if I succeed, you will be responsible to me, remember. No flirtations.”

“I promise,” she said. “Here’s my hand,” and she put her tiny white-gloved hand into mine.

“And if I heard of any affectionate meetings I should put down my foot at once.”

“Yes, that’s agreed,” she exclaimed, with enthusiasm. “At once.”

“And I should, perhaps, want you to help me in England,” I added slowly, looking into her pretty face the while.

“Help you, in what way?” she asked.

“At present, I hardly know. But if I wanted assistance might I count on you?”

“Count on me, Uncle Colin!” she echoed. “Why, of course, you can! Look at my indebtedness to you, and it will be increased if you can secure me permission to go back to England.”

“Well,” I said, “I’ll do what I can. But you have told me no untruths to-night, not one – ?” I asked very seriously. “If so, admit it.”

“Not one. I swear I haven’t.”

“Very well,” I said. “Then I’ll do my best.”

“Ah! you are a real dear!” cried the girl enthusiastically. “I almost feel as though I could hug and kiss you!”

“Better not,” I laughed. “There are some people sitting over there, and they would talk – ”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I suppose really one ought to be a bit careful, after all. When will you see the Emperor?”

“Perhaps to-morrow – if he gives me audience.” Then I related to her the story of the attempt in the Nevski on the previous morning, and the intention of assassinating the Emperor as he drove from the Nicholas station to the Palace.

“Ah, yes!” she cried. “It is all too dreadful. For seven weeks we have lived in constant terror of explosions. I could not go through it again for all the world. Those days in that stuffy armoured train were simply awful. His Majesty only undertook the journey in order to defy those who declared that some terrible catastrophe would happen. The Empress knew nothing of the danger until we had started.”

“And yet the only danger lay within half a mile of the Palace on your return,” I said. “There have, I hear, been thirty-three arrested to-day, including my friends Madame de Rosen and Luba. You knew them.”

“Marya de Rosen!” gasped the Grand Duchess, staring at me. “She is not under arrest?”

“Alas! she is already on her way, with her daughter, to Eastern Siberia.”

“But that is impossible. She was no revolutionist. I knew them both very intimately.”

“General Markoff was her enemy,” I said in a whisper. “Ah, yes! I hate that man!” cried Her Highness. “He is a clever liar who has wormed himself completely into the Emperor’s confidence, and now, in order to sustain a reputation as a discoverer of plots, he is compelled to first manufacture them. Hundreds of innocent men and women have been exiled by administrative order during the past twelve months for complicity in conspiracies which have never had any existence save in the wicked imagination of that brutal official. I know it —I can prove it!”

“Hush!” I said. “You may be overheard. You surely do not wish the man to become your enemy. Remember, he is all-powerful here – in Russia.”

“I will speak the truth when the time comes,” she said vehemently. “I will show the Emperor certain papers which have come into my own hands which will prove how His Majesty has been misled, tricked and terrorised by this Markoff, and certain of his bosom friends in the Cabinet.”

“It is really most unwise to speak so loudly,” I declared. “Somebody may overhear.”

“Let them overhear!” cried the girl angrily. “I do not fear Markoff in the least. I will, before long, open the Emperor’s eyes, never fear – and justice shall be done. These poor wretches shall not be sent to the dungeons beneath the lake at Schusselburg, or to the frozen wastes of Yakutsk, in order that Markoff shall remain in power. Ah! he little dreams how much I know!” she laughed harshly.

“It would hardly be wise of you to take any such action. You might fail – and – then – ”

“I cannot fail to establish at least the innocence of Madame de Rosen and of Luba. The reason why they have been sent to Siberia is simple. Into Madame de Rosen’s possession there recently came certain compromising letters concerning General Markoff. He discovered this, and hence her swift exile without trial. But, Uncle Colin,” she added, “those letters are in my possession! Madame de Rosen gave them to me the night before I went south with the Emperor, because she feared they might be stolen by some police-spy. And I have kept them in a place of safety until such convenient time when I can place them before His Majesty. The latter will surely see that justice is done, and then the disgraceful career of this arch-enemy of Russian peace and liberty will be at an end.”

“Hush!” I cried anxiously, for at that moment a tall man, in the bright green uniform of the Lithuanian Hussars, whose face I could not see, passed close by us, with a handsome middle-aged woman upon his arm. “Hush! Do, for heaven’s sake, be careful, I beg of you!” I exclaimed. “Such intention should not even be whispered. These Palace walls have ears, for spies are everywhere!”