Part 2 (1/2)
When he had gone she turned in alarm and whispered with her lady-in-waiting. Both women rose, and, following the monk, stood gazing at his receding figure as he went down the long white road.
”A strange man surely, Zeneide!” I heard the Empress exclaim. ”How curious that, unconscious of my presence, he should be here, praying for me--a holy man without a doubt! We must discover who he is. What eyes!
Did you notice them?”
”Yes. His gaze really frightened me,” her companion admitted.
”Ah! His is the face of a true saint--a wonder-worker! Of that I am certain. We must make inquiries concerning him,” remarked Her Majesty. ”I must see him again and speak with him!”
Then the pair, entering the carriage, drove rapidly away.
While standing upon the church steps they had discussed the Starets while I had lounged close by unnoticed, believing that we were alone.
As the carriage moved off, however, I was startled to feel strong hands laid heavily upon me, as a rough voice exclaimed:
”Halt! You are under arrest!”
Next second I became aware that I was in the hands of two rather well dressed men, no doubt agents of the Okhrana.
”You have been loitering here with evil intent!” exclaimed the elder of the pair. ”We have been watching you ever since you entered behind that good Father. We saw you secrete yourself. Have you any firearms?”
I unfortunately had a revolver, and at once produced it.
”Ah!” exclaimed the brown-bearded agent of Secret Police as he took possession of it. ”I thought so! You had discovered the ident.i.ty of the lady with the long veil, and have been here awaiting an opportunity to fire at her!”
”What?” I gasped, aghast at the serious charge levelled against me. ”I am no revolutionist! I carry that weapon merely for my self-protection.”
The bearded man gave a low whistle, and next moment three grey-coated policemen in uniform sprang up from nowhere, and I was unceremoniously marched through the streets to the head police bureau in the Gostiny Dvor, well knowing the seriousness of the allegation against me.
Two hours later I was taken to the dark-panelled room of the Chief of Police, a bald-headed, flabby-faced functionary in a dark blue uniform glittering with decorations. Before his big table, standing between two policemen, I answered question after question he put to me, my replies being carefully noted by a clerk who sat at a side table. In the room were also the two officers of the Okhrana who had travelled, unknown to the Empress, in order to keep Her Majesty beneath their surveillance.
”Why did you arrive at the Frantsiya and await the coming of the two ladies?” snapped the Chief of Police in his peculiarly offensive manner.
I was at loss what to say. I was unable to tell the truth lest I should betray the plot of Boris Sturmer and General Kouropatkine. I recollected my friends.h.i.+p with the hotel clerk, and my eagerness for the arrival of the travellers.
”Ah! You hesitate!” said the all-powerful functionary with a sinister grin, and knowing what I did of the political police and their arbitrary measures towards those suspected, I realised that I was in very grave danger.
”You had secret knowledge of Her Majesty's journey incognita, or you would not have been watching in the church with a loaded revolver in your pocket,” he went on. ”Your Brothers of Freedom, as you term them, never lack knowledge of Their Majesties' movements,” my inquisitor said.
”I deny, your Excellency, that I was there with any evil intent,” I protested. ”Such a thing as you suggest never for a second entered my mind.”
The man in the brilliant uniform laughed, saying:
”I have heard that same declaration before. It is a clever plot, no doubt, but fortunately you were watched, and the knowledge that you were being watched prevented you from putting your plans into execution.
Come--confess!”
”I had no idea that I was being watched until I was arrested,” I declared.
”But you cannot explain the reason why you travelled from Petrograd to Kazan. Let us hear your excuse,” he said with increased sarcasm.