Part 40 (1/2)

”Of course,” answered the Princess, with a pretty a.s.sumption of indignation. ”Do you think I would suffer any man to kiss me unless I were sure he were going to be my husband?”

As he walked back to his hotel Corsini felt as if he were treading on air. How thankful he was to the kindly old Count for that hint, to strike while the iron was hot. Left to himself, he might have lost her for want of boldness. And now, Nada had promised to be his wife. Very shortly he and his dear little sister would both be happily married.

Later in the day, when the Emperor's private cabinet had been cleared of his official counsellors, Alexander held an important conversation with a man as strong and stalwart as himself, closely resembling him in height and build. This man was an illegitimate son of one of the Romanoffs, and had ever devoted himself to his Majesty's person and given a hundred proofs of his loyalty.

”Listen, my faithful Sergius,” said the autocrat, as he motioned him to a seat. ”I have something to tell you that will startle you. You know that to-night we hold a _bal-masque_ at the Winter Palace. You will be there.”

The man Sergius nodded. On these more or less ceremonious occasions he was never far from his master's side. He had no subtlety of intellect, he had little sense of diplomacy. It was impossible to advance him very far, to make him into even the semblance of a statesman, but he wors.h.i.+pped his Emperor and relative with a canine fidelity. He was a magnificent watch-dog and would lay down his life for his master.

”There is a plot on foot, engineered by Prince Zouroff and others, to a.s.sa.s.sinate me to-night in the ball-room of the Winter Palace.”

Sergius recoiled in horror. ”But where are your guards, your police?

What are Golitzine, Beilski, and Burovkin doing?” he cried in amazement. He started from his chair, ever a man of action. ”Let me go round to the Zouroff Palace at once, get hold of this ruffian and choke the life out of him. You can then punish me for a brief s.p.a.ce and then give me a free pardon--extenuating circ.u.mstances, or something of that sort.”

Alexander smiled kindly. Sergius, the man of proved loyalty, spoke, as usual, from his full heart. But, as ever, he lacked discretion.

”A most excellent idea, my good old friend and cousin, but in this century we cannot proceed on strictly mediaeval lines. Besides, we want to take them, so to speak, red-handed. Golitzine is working admirably.

So are Burovkin and Beilski; they will see to the soldiers and the police. They wanted to arrange my part in the affair--I know what they would have proposed, that I should absent myself--I determined to take the matter in hand personally. If I am not there, and they already know how I purpose to be dressed, they will not carry out their plot; they will postpone it, and we shall still be hanging on the tenterhooks of suspense, wondering when the blow will fall. Let it fall to-night, as they have planned, and let them be taken red-handed.

That is my policy.”

Sergius stared at his master with a puzzled expression. His slow brain could not follow the Emperor's explanation. Certainly, it would be very easy for him to go round to the Zouroff Palace and strangle its master; half a dozen others, if necessary. This was surely the most certain way to his soldier-like and practical mind.

”Sergius, my good friend, this affair wants a little diplomacy, which you and I will carry out between us. I shall acquaint Golitzine and the others with it, say, an hour before the reception begins. They think they have the monopoly of brains, that their Emperor must always think the thoughts they put into his head, always speak the words they prepare for him. Well, I am going to show them that sometimes I can act upon my own initiative. I have prepared a little stratagem, in which I invite your co-operation. I will explain it to you.”

He unfolded his scheme to the puzzled and interested Sergius. The blunt soldier rose up when the Emperor had finished, and smiled delightedly.

”Excellent, most excellent, Sire. You can rely upon me; you may be sure I shall not fail to play my part.”

At midnight the vast saloons of the Winter Palace were thronged with a happy, joyous crowd. Zouroff was there, in a disguise that he thought n.o.body could penetrate. The other seven leaders were there also, safe as they thought from recognition.

Corsini was there, having come on from the Opera. And the young Princess had come also, with the Countess Golitzine. At first she had protested. She wished to see the Emperor triumph, as she was a.s.sured he would; but the Emperor's triumph would mean the ruin of her brother. Basely as he had treated her, she was reluctant to a.s.sist at the spectacle of his degradation.

But curiosity prevailed, the natural curiosity of being in at the finish of things. And besides, the Countess had told her that she would give to Corsini a description of her costume, and obtain from him one of his, so that they could easily recognise each other. In the end, she went.

The commanding figure of the Emperor, clothed in his mask and blue domino, moved about amongst his guests. There was no mistaking that Imperial presence. One man, in particular, was watching intently, following every motion.

Corsini had at last found out his sweetheart. They were conversing together in low whispers, when suddenly there rose from a hundred throats the shout of--”Treason! Treason!”

They turned their startled gaze towards the end of the room, in time to see the Emperor's huge form sink slowly to the floor. A small man darted from his side, buried himself amid the crowd and made hastily towards the nearest door, concealing in his garments the dagger with which he had inflicted the blow.

He found the door guarded by three stalwart men, who seized him at once and forbade egress. They were members of Beilski's police.

At the same instant the General himself tore off his mask, and cried out in stentorian tones, ”Unmask, everybody. The doors are guarded.

None can pa.s.s through till we are satisfied of their innocence. We know the names of all the traitors. At yonder door my men have got the a.s.sa.s.sin.”

Slowly they all unmasked, Zouroff amongst the rest. He knew now that he had been foiled by somebody, that his ambitions were quenched for ever. Siberia and the mines for him, as the lightest penalty.