Part 1 (1/2)
The Price of Power.
by William Le Queux.
CHAPTER ONE.
THE MADCAP.
”M'sieur Colin Trewinnard?”
”That is my name, Captain Stoyanovitch,” I replied in surprise. ”You know it quite well.”
”The usual formality, _mon cher ami_!”
And the tall, handsome equerry in the white uniform of the Imperial Guard laughed lightly, clicked his heels together, and handed me a letter which I saw bore the Imperial cipher upon its black seal.
”From His Imperial Majesty the Emperor,” he added in Russian.
I held my breath. Had the blow fallen?
With eager, trembling fingers I tore open the envelope and found therein a note in French, merely the words:
”_His Imperial Majesty the Emperor commands Mr Colin Trewinnard to private audience to-day at 3:30 p.m_.
”_St Petersburg, June 28th_.”
”Very well,” I managed to reply. ”Tell Colonel Polivanoff that--that I shall be there. Have a cigarette?” and I handed him the silver box of Bogdanoffs which were the common property of the staff of the Emba.s.sy.
Having flung himself into a big easy chair, he stretched out his long legs and lit up.
”Well,” I said, leaning against the edge of the writing-table, ”I suppose the Emperor returned from Odessa early this morning--eh?”
”Yes,” replied the elegant officer, in English. ”Thank Heaven, the journey is at last over. Ah! what a tour of the Empire! At Orel we held the great review, then on to Saratov, where there were more manoeuvres and a review. Afterwards we went down the Volga to Astrakhan to unveil the new statue to Peter the Great; then Kertch, more manoeuvres, and into the Crimea for a week's rest. Afterwards across to Odessa, and then, by a three nights' journey, back here to Petersburg.
Faugh! How we all hate that armoured train!”
”But it is surely highly necessary, my dear Stoyanovitch,” I said.
”With this abominable wave of anarchism which has spread over Europe, it behoves the Secret Police to take every precaution for His Majesty's safety!”
”Ah! my dear friend,” laughed the equerry. ”I tell you it is not at all pleasant to travel when one expects every moment that the train will be blown up. One's sleeping-berth, though covered with a down quilt, is but a bed of torture in such conditions.”
”Yes,” I said. ”But His Majesty--how does he bear it?”
”The Emperor has nerves of iron. He is the least concerned of any of us. But, _mon Dieu_! I would not be in his shoes for the wealth of all the Russias.”
”What--more conspiracies?” I exclaimed.
”Conspiracies!” sighed the Captain. ”_Mon Dieu_! A fresh one is discovered by the political police every week. Only the day before the Emperor left for the country he found among the Ministers' daily reports upon the table in his private cabinet an anonymous letter telling him that he will meet with a tragic end on the sixth of the present month.
How this letter got there n.o.body knows. His Majesty is seldom out of temper, but I never saw him so furiously angry before.”
”It is unfortunate,” I said. ”Apparently he cannot trust even his immediate _entourage_.”
”Exactly,” answered the dark-haired handsome man. ”The constant reports of General Markoff regarding the revolutionists must be most alarming.