And I retired to send the following despatch to Lord Bedale:

When Baltic Fleet starts prepare for trouble. Have all ports watched. It is believed here that attack on it is preparing in England.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MYSTERY OF A WOMAN

Who was M. Auguste?

This was the question that kept my mind busy after my singular interview with the Russian Emperor.

In accordance with my rule to avoid as much as possible mentioning the names of the humbler actors in the international drama, I have given the notorious medium a name which conceals his true one.

He appeared to be a foreigner, and the Czar's weakness in this direction was too well known for his patronage of the quack to excite much attention; apparently it had occurred to no one but myself that such a man might be capable of meddling in politics.

In his more public performances, so far as I could learn, the revelations of the spirits were confined to more harmless topics, such as the nature of the future state, or the prospect of an heir being born to the Russian crown.

In my quest for further light on this remarkable personage, my thoughts naturally turned to the Princess Y----.

I have not concealed that at our first meeting the charming collaborator of M. Petrovitch had made a very strong impression on me. Her subsequent conduct had made me set a guard on myself, and the memory of the j.a.panese maiden whose portrait had become my cherished "mascot," of course insured that my regard for the Princess could never pa.s.s the bounds of platonic friendship.

But the strange scene of the day before had moved me profoundly.

Vanity is not a failing of which I am ever likely to be accused by my worst detractor, yet it was impossible for me to shut my eyes or ears to the confession which had been made with equal eloquence by the looks, the blushes and even the words of the beautiful Russian.

Was ever situation more stupid in all the elements of tragedy! This unhappy woman, spurred to all kinds of desperate deeds by the awful fear of the knout, had been overcome by that fatal power which has wrecked so many careers.

In the full tide of success, in the very midst of a life and death combat with the man it was her business to outwit and defeat, she had succ.u.mbed to love for him.

And now, to render her painful situation tenfold more painful, she was holding the dagger at his breast as the only means of keeping it out of the clutch of some more murderous hand.

Had I the pen of a romancer I might enlarge on this sensational theme. But I am a man of action, whose business it is to record facts, not to comment on them.

I sought the mansion on the Nevsky Prospect, and asked to see its mistress.

Evidently the visit was expected. The groom of the chambers--if that was his proper description--led me up-stairs, and into a charming boudoir.

A fire replenished by logs of sandalwood was burning in a malachite stove, and diffusing a dream-like fragrance through the chamber. The walls of the room were panelled in ivory, and the curtains that hung across the window frames were of embroidered silk and gold. Each separate chair and toy-like table was a work of art--ebony, cinnamon, and other rare and curious woods having been employed.

But the rarest treasure there was the mistress of all this luxury.

The inmate of the sumptuous prison, for such it truly was, lay back on a leopard-skin couch, set in the frame of a great silver sea-sh.e.l.l.

She had dressed for my coming in the quaint but gorgeous costume of ancient Russia, the costume worn by imperial usage at high State functions like coronations, weddings and christenings.

The high coif above her forehead flamed with jewels, and big, sleepy pearls slid and fell over her neck and bosom.

At my entrance she gave a soft cry, and raised herself on one white arm. I stepped forward as though I were a courtier saluting a queen, and pressed my lips to her extended hand.

"I expected you, Andreas."

Only two women in my life have I ever allowed to call me by my Christian name. One was the ill-starred lady who perished in the Konak in Belgrade. The other--but of her I may not speak.

But it was not for me to stand on ceremony with the woman who had interposed herself as a shield between me and the enemies who sought my death.

"You knew that I should come to thank you," I said.

"I do not wish for thanks," she answered, with a look that was more expressive than words. "I wish only that you should regard me as a friend."

"And in what other light is it possible for me to regard you, dear Princess?" I returned. "Only this friendship must not be all on one side. You, too, must consent to think of me as something more than a stranger whose life you have saved."

"Can you doubt that I have done so for a long time?"

It needed the pressure of the locket against my neck to keep me from replying to this tenderly-spoken sentiment in a way which might have led to consequences, for the Russian Empire as well as for the Princess and myself, very different to those which have actually flowed from our conjunction.

Conquering my impulses as I best could, I sought for a reply which would not wear the appearance of a repulse.

"You misunderstand me," I said, putting on an expression of pride.

"You little know the character of Andreas V---- if you think he can accept the humiliating position of the man who is under obligation to a woman--an obligation which he has done nothing to discharge. Not until I can tell myself that I have done something to place me on a higher level in your eyes, can my thoughts concerning you be happy ones."

A shade of disappointment pa.s.sed over Sophia's face. She made a pettish gesture.

"Does not--friendship do away with all sense of obligation?" she complained.

"Not with me," I answered firmly. "No, Sophia, if you really care for me--for my friendship-you must let me do what I have sworn to do ever since I first saw you and heard some rumors of your tragic story."

"You mean?"

"You must let me break your odious bondage. I can deliver you, if you will only trust me, from the power of the Russian police, or any other power, and set you free to live the life of fascination and happiness which ought to be yours."

The Princess seemed plunged in meditation. At length she looked up----

"You would undertake a hopeless task, my dear Andreas. Not even you can fathom all the ramifications of the intrigues in which I find myself an indispensable puppet. Those who control my movements will never let go the strings by which they hold me, and least of all, just now."

I was distressed to see that the Princess was disposed to evade my appeal for confidence. I answered with a slightly wounded air:

"I may know more than you think, more even than you know yourself on certain points. But of course you are not willing to confide in me fully----"

"There can be no perfect trust without perfect"--The Princess, who spoke this sentence in Russian, concluded it with a word which may mean either friendship or love according to circ.u.mstances. As she p.r.o.nounced it, it seemed like love.

"There can be no perfect love without perfect trust," I responded quickly, striving to a.s.sume the manner of an exacting lover.

And then, a happy thought striking me, I added in an aggrieved voice,

"Do you think it is nothing to me that you should be a.s.sociated with other men in the most secret enterprises, holding private conferences with them, receiving them in your house, perhaps visiting them in theirs; that you should appear to be on intimate terms with the Grand Duke Staniola.n.u.s, with M. Petrovitch, with a man like this M.

Auguste----"