Part 39 (2/2)
”Shall we ever know? All we found was two feathers, this morning, in the boudoir of the Empress, which leads us to think that the eider downs were taken out that way. I am taking the two feathers to Koupriane.”
”Let me see them,” asked the reporter.
Rouletabille looked them over and handed them back.
”And what do you think the whole affair means?”
”We are inclined to regard it as a threat by the revolutionaries. If they can carry away the eider downs, it would be quite as easy for them to carry away...”
”The Imperial family? No, I don't think it is that.”
”What do you mean, then?”
”I? Nothing any more. Not only do I not think any more, but I don't wish to. Tell me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal, it is useless, I suppose, to try to see His Majesty before I go?”
”What good would it do, monsieur? We know everything now. This Natacha that you defended against Koupriane is proved the culprit. The last affair does not leave that in any reasonable doubt. And she is taken care of from this time on. His Majesty wishes never to hear Natacha spoken of again under any pretext.”
”And what are you going to do with that young girl?”
”The Tsar has decided that there shall not be any trial and that the daughter of General Treba.s.sof shall be sent, by administrative order, to Siberia. The Tsar, monsieur, is very good, for he might have had her hanged. She deserved it.”
”Yes, yes, the Tsar is very good.”
”You are very absorbed, Monsieur Rouletabille, and you are not eating.”
”I have no appet.i.te, Monsieur le Marechal. Tell me,-the Emperor must be rather bored at Tsarskoie-Coelo?”
”Oh, he has plenty of work. He rises at seven o'clock and has a light English luncheon-tea and toast. At eight o'clock he starts and works till ten. From ten to eleven he promenades.”
”In the jail-yard?” asked Rouletabille innocently.
”What's that you say? Ah, you are an enfant terrible! Certainly we do well to send you away. Until eleven he promenades in a pathway of the park. From eleven to one he holds audience; luncheon at one; then he spends the time until half-past two with his family.”
”What does he eat?”
”Soup. His Majesty is wonderfully fond of soup. He takes it at every meal. After luncheon he smokes, but never a cigar-always cigarettes, gifts of the Sultan; and he only drinks one liqueur, Maraschino. At half-past two he goes out again for a little air-always in his park; then he sets himself to work until eight o'clock. It is simply frightful work, with heaps of useless papers and numberless signatures. No secretary can spare him that ungrateful bureaucratic duty. He must sign, sign, sign, and read, read, read the reports. And it is work without any beginning or end; as soon as some reports go, others arrive. At eight o'clock, dinner, and then more signatures, working right up to eleven o'clock. At eleven o'clock he goes to bed.”
”And he sleeps to the rhythmical tramp of the guards on patrol,” added Rouletabille, bluntly.
”O young man, young man!”
”Pardon me, Monsieur le Grand Marechal,” said the reporter, rising; ”I am, indeed, a disturbing spirit and I know that I have nothing more to do in this country. You will not see me any more, Monsieur le Grand Marechal; but before leaving I ought to tell you how much I have been touched by the hospitality of your great nation. That hospitality is sometimes a little dangerous, but it is always magnificent. No other nation in the world knows like the Russians how to receive a man, Your Excellency. I speak as I feel; and that isn't affected by my manner of quitting you, for you know also how to put a man to the door. Adieu, then; without any rancor. My most respectful homage to His Majesty. Ah, just one word more! You will recall that Natacha Feodorovna was engaged to poor Boris Mourazoff, still another young man who has disappeared and who, before disappearing, charged me to deliver to General Treba.s.sof's daughter this last token-these two little ikons. I entrust you with this mission, Monsieur le Grand Marechal. Your servant, Excellency.”
Rouletabille re-descended the great Kaniouche. ”Now,” said he to himself, ”it is my turn to buy farewell presents.” And he made his way slowly across la Place des Grandes-Ecuries and the bridge of the Katharine ca.n.a.l. He entered Aptiekarski-Pereoulok and pushed open Pere Alexis's door, under the arch, at the back of the obscure court.
”Health and prosperity, Alexis Hutch!”
”Ah, you again, little man! Well? Koupriane has let you know the result of my a.n.a.lyses?”
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