Part 24 (2/2)
The maddest excitement was racing through Paul, as he held the tiller-ropes and made straight for the light. And once he felt in his pocket to a.s.sure himself he had not forgotten Dmitry's pistol, which he had cleaned and loaded himself that afternoon.
He knew this adventure might be a dangerous one, simple as it looked superficially, and now he was an expert revolver shot, thanks to constant practice.
The light proved to be in a little sheltered cove, with a small landing-stage. And--yes--the man who held it was the Kalmuck, Vasili.
”Welcome, welcome to the _Siyatelstvo_,” he whispered, as he kissed Paul's hand. And then in perfect silence they began to ascend a path. Presently it stopped abruptly. They had come up perhaps not fifty feet, when their way was barred by a great nail-studded door.
”Hist!” said Vasili softly, and instantly it was opened from within, and Dmitry peered anxiously at them.
”Ah, the saints be blessed, the Excellency is safe,” he said. But they must not delay a minute, he added. The Excellency must return to the waiting boat! A slight but unexpected ill-fortune had befallen them, connected with the to-be-execrated Troublesome one, and it would not be safe for the Imperial Highness if the Excellency should land tonight. She had sent him to say that the Excellency was to keep out at sea for two days, and return steaming past, and if he saw a white flag flying from the villa roof, then at night he was to anchor and come ash.o.r.e at this same time. If not, for the moment he must go on back to Constantinople, where news and further instructions would be sent him.
As he spoke Dmitry indicated the return path, and bid the Excellency follow him, and hasten, hasten. This was a terrible blow to Paul, but the thought that he might bring danger to his beloved one made him not hesitate a moment.
They descended the path in silence, and as he stepped into the boat the old servant whispered, the Imperial Highness had bid him a.s.sure the Excellency that all was well, the meeting was only deferred, when they should have several days together in safety. ”The saints protect the Excellency,” the faithful creature added. Then, when Paul was safely in the boat, he stood back to make sharply three times the sea-bird's cry.
The weird minor notes floating out on the night seemed a wailing echo of the agonised disappointment in Paul's heart--more than once a mad impulse to go back convulsed his being before he reached the yacht--but it was not till afterwards that he remembered as a strange circ.u.mstance the fact that with Dmitry's first words at the nail-studded door Vasili had vanished into darkness.
CHAPTER XXIX
The two days out at sea were a raging impatience to Paul, in which he learnt to understand all the torments of Tantalus. To know and feel her near, and yet not to be allowed to get to her! It was an impossible cruelty.
The two grey-headed men's hearts ached for him, and Captain Grigsby delivered himself of this aphorism:
”Say what you will, Charles, but youth pays the devil of a long price for its pleasures. Here you and I snored like a couple of porpoises all last night, while the boy paced the deck and cursed everything.”
And Sir Charles had only grunted, for he was feeling very deeply for his son.
There was a fresh breeze blowing when the time was up and they sighted land again, and long before any possible sh.o.r.e could be examined, Paul stood--his strongest gla.s.ses in his hand--on the look-out.
At length they came in full view, and alas! there could be no mistake, the flagstaff upon the villa roof was empty.
To the day of his death Paul will keep a vivid picture of the pure white-columned house. No semi-Oriental architecture met his view, but a beautiful marble structure in the graceful Ionic style, seeming a suitable habitation for his Queen.
It was approached by groves of ilex, from a wall at the edge of the sea. And now Paul could discern the landing-stage, and the great studded door.
A sensation of foreboding--a wild, mad anxiety, filled his being. What had happened? Why might he not land? Then for the first time that fact of Vasili's vanishment came into his mind. Was there something sinister in it? Had he scented any danger to his Queen, and gone to see? A whirlwind of questions and frenzied speculation shook Paul's brain. But there was nothing to be done now but to cram on all steam and make for Constantinople.
He looked again. The green _jalousies_ were lowered over the windows, all seemed peaceful, silent and deserted. No living being wandered in the gardens. It might have been a mausoleum for the dead. And as this thought came to him Paul almost cried aloud.
Then he dominated himself. How weak and intolerably foolish to imagine evil where perhaps none was! Why should his thoughts fly to terrible reasons for the postponement of his joy, when in truth they could as well be of the simplest? A sudden call to the city--a descent of some undesirable spying eye--a hundred and one possible things, all much more likely than any ones of fear.
He would not permit another moment of wonder. He would regain his calm and wait like a man for certainty. Thus his face wore an iron mask and his thoughts an iron band. And presently they came to Constantinople.
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