Part 22 (1/2)
”If you will disa.s.sociate yourself from these dastardly actions,” he said.
”Ah!” sighed the other in despair, ”that is impossible. The General holds me always to the compact I made with him. But I beg of you to be warned,” he added. ”Her Highness is daily in gravest peril!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
INCOGNITA!
Shortly after eleven o'clock that same evening I was strolling with Hartwig up and down the deserted platform at Victoria Station, my intention being to take the eleven-fifty p.m. train back to Brighton.
For a full hour we had pressed the informer to explain the real reason of his visit to Brighton on the previous day. But beyond a.s.suring us that it was not with any evil intent--which I confess we could scarcely believe--he declined to reveal anything.
He only repeated his warning that Natalia was in grave personal danger, and entreated me to be careful. The refugees in that house, all of them Russians, seemed filled with intense curiosity regarding us, and especially so, perhaps, because of Hartwig's declaration that he was bearer of a message from that mysterious leader who was believed to live somewhere in Moscow, and was known throughout the Russian Empire as ”The ONE.”
No doubt after our departure Danilovitch had told them of some secret message he had received from the mysterious head of the organisation, who was none other than himself.
But his confession had held both of us practically silent ever since we had left that dingy house in Lower Clapton.
”Markoff believes that Her Highness is aware of the contents of those letters,” Hartwig said as we strolled together in the great, well-lit station. Few people were about just at that hour, for the suburban theatre-goers had not yet arrived. ”For that reason it is intended that her mouth shall be closed.”
”But this is murder!” I cried in hot indignation. ”I will go straight to the Emperor, and tell him.”
”And what benefit would that be? His Majesty would declare it to be an effort by some of the General's enemies to disgrace him,” my companion said. ”Such d.a.m.ning statements have been made before, but, alas! no heed has been taken of them!”
”But His Majesty shall hear--and he shall take notice! I will demand in inquiry into the arrest and exile of Madame de Rosen.”
”I thought you told me that you had already mentioned her name to His Majesty,” Hartwig said quietly.
I had forgotten. Yes. His words recalled to me my effort on her behalf, and the futility of my appeal. I sighed, and bit my lip. The two innocent ladies were on their way to that far-off dreaded penal settlement of Yakutsk. From the time which had elapsed since their arrest I calculated that they were already in Siberia, trudging that long, never-ending post road--that wide, deeply-rutted track which runs across those boundless plains between Tobolsk and Tomsk--on the first stage of their terrible journey of over six thousand miles on foot.
A sudden suggestion flashed across my mind. Should I follow, overtake them and hear the truth from Marya de Rosen's lips?
Yet before doing so I should be compelled to apply for a pa.s.sport and permits at the Ministry of the Interior at Petersburg. If I did this, Markoff would at once suspect my intention, for travellers do not go to Siberia for pleasure. And if he suspected my intention a way would quickly be found by which, when I arrived at my destination, neither of the ladies would be alive. In Siberia, where there is neither law nor inquiry, it was, I knew, very easy to close the lips of any person whose existence might be prejudicial to the authorities. A word from General Markoff, and an accident would certainly occur.
No. I realised that to relax my vigilance over the safety of Natalia at that moment would be most injudicious. Besides, was not Natalia herself aware of the contents of the letters? If not, why had her enemies made the firm determination that she should meet with a sudden and mysterious end?
I mentioned to my companion my inclination to travel across Siberia in search of the exiles; but he only shook his head gravely, saying:
”You are, no doubt, under very close observation. Even if you went, you might, by so doing, place yourself in grave personal peril. Remember, Markoff is desperate. The contents of those letters, whatever they may be, are evidently so d.a.m.ning that he cannot afford exposure. The pains he took to secure them, and to send Madame de Rosen into exile, plainly show this. No,” he added, ”the most judicious plan is to remain here, near Her Highness, and watch Markoff's operations.”
”If Her Highness would only reveal to me the secret of those letters, then we should be in a position to defy Markoff and reveal him before the Emperor in his true light,” I said.
”She has refused--eh?”
”Yes. I have questioned her a dozen times, but always with the same result,” was my answer.
”But will she refuse, if she knows that her father's tragic end was due to the wild desire of Markoff to close her lips?”
”Yes. I have already pointed that out to her. Her reply is that what she learnt was in confidence. It is her friend's secret, and she cannot betray it. She is the very soul of honour. Her word is her bond.”
”You will tell her now of Danilovitch's confession; how the letters were stolen and handed back to the General by the man whom he holds so completely in his power?” Hartwig said.