The Price of Power. Le Queux William

know that you are entirely loyal to me. I am Emperor, it is true, but I am, nevertheless, a man of my word, just as you are,” he replied, his intelligent face dark and grave. “Yes. I thought you would realise the seriousness of the present situation, and I know that you alone I can trust. I have not even told the Empress.”

      “Why not?”

      “For obvious reasons.”

      I was silent. I only then realised the motive of his hesitation.

      “I admit that Your Majesty’s request has placed me in a somewhat awkward position,” I said at last, bending forward in my chair. “Truth to tell, I – well, I’m hardly hopeful of success, for the mission with which I am entrusted is so extremely difficult, and so – ”

      “I am fully aware of that,” he interrupted. “Yet I feel confident that you, who have saved my life on one occasion, will not hesitate to undertake this service to the best of your ability. Use the utmost discretion, and you may get at the truth. I do not disguise from you the fact that upon certain contingencies, dependent on the success of your mission, depends the throne of Russia – the dynasty. Do you follow?” And he looked me straight in the face with those big, round brown eyes, an open, straight, honest look, as became a man who was fearless – an Emperor.

      “I regret that I do not exactly understand,” I ventured to exclaim, whereat he rose, tall, handsome and muscular, and strode to the window. The band of the Imperial Guard was playing below in the great paved quadrangle, as it always did each day at four o’clock when the Emperor was in residence. For a few seconds he stood peering forth critically at the long lines of soldiers drawn up across the square. Then the man whose word was law turned back to me with a sigh, saying:

      “No, Trewinnard, I suppose you do not follow me. It is all a mystery to you, of course,” – and he paused – “as mysterious as the sudden disappearance of Madame de Rosen and her daughter Luba from Petersburg.”

      “Disappearance?” I echoed, amazed. “They are still in Petersburg. I dined with them only last night!”

      “They are not now in Petersburg,” replied the Emperor very quietly. “They left at nine o’clock this morning on a long journey – to Siberia.”

      My heart gave a great bound.

      “To Siberia!” I gasped, staring at him. “Are they exiled? Who has done this?”

      “I have done it,” was his hard reply. “They are revolutionists – implicated in the attempt that was to be made upon me early this morning as I drove up the Nevski.”

      “Markoff has denounced them?”

      “He has. See, here is a full list of names of the conspirators,” and he took a slip of paper from his desk.

      “And General Markoff told Your Majesty of my friendliness with Madame and her daughter?”

      “Certainly.”

      “Markoff lied when he denounced them as revolutionists!” I cried angrily. “They were my friends, and I know them very intimately. Let me here declare, Sire, that no subject of Your Majesty was more loyal than those two ladies. Surely the agent-provocateur has been at work again.”

      “Unfortunately I am bound to believe the word of the head of my political police,” he said rather briefly.

      I knew, alas! how fierce and bitter was the Emperor’s hatred of those who plotted against his life. A single word against man or woman was sufficient to cause them to be arrested and sent to the other side of Asia, never again to return.

      “And where have the ladies been sent?” I inquired. The Emperor consulted a slip of paper, and then replied:

      “To Parotovsk.”

      “The most far-distant and dreaded of all the Arctic penal settlements!” I cried. “It is cruel and unjust! It is death to send a woman there, where it is winter for nine months in the year, and where darkness reigns five months out of the twelve.”

      “I regret,” replied the Emperor, with a slight gesture of the hand. “But they were conspirators.”

      “With all respect to Your Majesty, I beg to express an entirely different opinion. Markoff has long been Madame de Rosen’s enemy.”

      His Majesty made a quick imperious gesture of impatience and said:

      “Please do not let us discuss the matter further – at least, until you are in a position to prove your allegation.”

      “I will,” I cried. “I know that your Majesty will never allow such injustice to be done to two innocent, delicate ladies.”

      “If injustice has really been done, then those responsible shall suffer. Discover the truth, and report to me later,” he said.

      “I will do my very utmost,” was my reply.

      “And at the same time, Trewinnard, I trust you will endeavour to carry out the confidential mission which I have entrusted to you,” he said. “Recollect that I treat you, not as a foreign diplomat, but as a loyal and true personal friend of myself and my house. Ah!” he sighed again; “Heaven knows, I have but few trustworthy ones about me.”

      “I am profoundly honoured by Your Majesty’s confidence,” I assured him, bowing low. “I certainly shall respect it, and act exactly as you desire.”

      “The Court dislikes confidence being placed in any foreigner, even though he be an Englishman,” the Emperor said in a changed voice; “therefore, remain discreet always, and disclaim that I have ever treated you other than with the formal courtesy which is expected by all diplomats.”

      “I quite understand,” I said.

      “You will see Natalia at the Court ball to-night, and you can speak to her diplomatically, if opportunity occurs. But recollect that she must know nothing of what I have said. I believe you know Hartwig, chief of the criminal detective force.”

      “Quite well,” was my reply.

      “Then I will give him orders. Use him as you wish, but tell him nothing.”

      “I shall remain silent.”

      “And you are entitled to leave of absence – eh? You can return to England without arousing suspicion?”

      “Yes. I have eight weeks due to me.”

      “Excellent. I can do nothing more – except to thank you, Trewinnard, to thank you most sincerely for assisting me, and to await word from you. Sign it with ‘Bathildis,’ and I shall know.” And the great burly, bearded man held out his big, strong hand – the iron hand – as sign that my audience was at an end.

      I bowed low over it, and next moment the heavy white door of enamelled steel swung open and I backed out of the Imperial presence, the bearer of a secret as strange and grim as it has ever been the lot of any man to lock within his breast.

      What the Emperor had revealed to me was undreamed of by that gay, reckless and intriguing circle which comprised the Russian Court – undreamed of by the chancelleries of Europe.

      The merest whisper of it would, I knew, stagger the world. And yet he had, in sheer desperation, confided in me a most amazing truth. As I descended that broad, handsome flight of thickly-carpeted marble steps, where flunkeys in brilliant grey and purple livery bowed at every turn, and equerries and officials in smart uniforms came and went, my brain was awhirl at the magnitude of the affair, and the terrible scandal which must result if ever the secret were betrayed – the secret of a throne.

      A thought flashed across my mind – the knowledge of my own personal peril. I had enemies – bitter enemies. My heart sank within me as I stepped into the great gilded hall, for I had given a promise which I much feared I would never be permitted to live and fulfil.

      Chapter Three.

      Contains Certain Confidences

      Six hours later, accompanied by Saunderson, our tall, thin Chargé d’Affaires, and the Embassy staff, all in our