A NIGHT’S reflection brought but slight relief to my anxiety and doubt. How that wily Russian general had succeeded so easily and promptly in discovering all about me, I was at a loss to guess; nor was it of much profit to inquire. He had the facts, and the question was how he would use them; and the first gleam of an answer came from a very small thing.
He had offered me first three days in which to leave the country, and then had extended the time to a week. Why? I came to the conclusion at length that he had probably a double reason, for he was not the man to do anything without a clear reason. He was all against my joining the party of the Prince, and was probably resolved to go to extreme lengths to prevent me. But he knew also, though he had been crafty enough not to admit it openly, that I was an Englishman; and that fact might well embarrass him in dealing with me.
Any ill-treatment of a British subject at such a juncture might bring about just such grave complications with our Foreign Office as might imperil the whole Russian under-current policy. That was, therefore, unquestionably one of my strong cards to play, and I resolved to use it promptly.
I judged that in all probability my correspondence would be tampered with, and would, if necessary, pass under his own eyes; so I wrote a letter to a friend in England, stating the fact plainly that I had had an interview with General Kolfort, the Russian leader, in which the fact that I was a British subject had been discussed between us, and added a few words of assumed annoyance that this should have happened, as it might interfere with my plans in making a career in Bulgaria. I put in some other general matter such as might be written in a friendly letter, and finished with a request that my correspondent would send me two or three articles I had left in his care. This was all fable, of course; but I wrote it to make it more difficult for the General to suppress the letter. Then I added a postscript, with the usual sting in it.
“If you get a chance, you might drop a side hint to Edwardes, of the Foreign Office, that I am here, and known to be English.”
I sealed the letter with careful clumsiness, so that the envelope could easily be opened without the seal being broken, marked it “Urgent. Strictly private,” and then gave it to a waiter to post. If I was under the surveillance he had suggested, I felt convinced that nothing more was necessary to ensure its getting immediately into the General’s hands. It would at least give him food for thought.
Then as to his second object. Why had he given me any time at all? A Russian party, strong and unscrupulous enough to plan the assassination of the reigning Prince himself—as they had done—would have thought nothing of keeping me, a mere Roumanian Count (as I told them I was when they had me on the previous evening), rushing me off incontinently to the frontier, and bidding me be off about my business under fear of a stray bullet should I attempt to return. But he had given me a week to deliberate, and I drew the inference that he was really anxious to have an Englishman on his side, and that he meant to use the week to bring strong inducements to bear upon me.
And through all these reflections one dazzling remembrance flashed, as the sun will flash through thin foliage after a summer shower—the great steady glare caught and reflected from a myriad drops on the wet, dancing leaves. It was the memory of the glorious beauty of the Princess, with that look of solicitude for me and of fear of the General which I had seemed to catch.
I had no more desire to fly the country than I had had to leave her witching presence, and a thousand thoughts rushed through my mind, bewildering, stirring, fascinating me, and all urging me to stay until I had at least probed the meaning of her look, and determined whether I could in any way serve her. If she really stood in need of a friend, how gladly—— And at that point I broke the thought with a laugh at my own silly conceit. She had a hundred, aye, a thousand men at her command. And I was a fool.
But I would not leave the country if I could help it, and I ordered a horse and rode out, first to see how nearly my house was ready, and then away for a gallop in the country.
On my return I learned that two officers had called and asked for me; had left word that, as their business was urgent, they would return early in the afternoon. I did not know the names—Captain Dimitrieff and Lieutenant Grassaw—and I could not think what they wanted with me, but I resolved to wait in for them; and while I was waiting, a servant brought me a card from another stranger—Lieutenant Spernow.
The moment he entered I liked his pleasant, cheery looks, and his frank, unrestrained, self-possessed manner impressed me most favourably. With a smile he offered me his hand, and said:
“I have come in a quite unusual way, Count Benderoff. I am sent, in fact, to make your acquaintance. I am assured we shall speedily be friends.”
“I am certainly at your service,” I answered, unable to resist a smile at his singular introduction.
“It has an odd sound after all, hasn’t it; and yet, do you know, I’ve been thinking how I should put it and rehearsing, all the way. It does sound devilish odd from a stranger, but I do hope—for reasons that weigh infinitely with me, I can assure you—that so odd an introduction will really lead to friendship.”
“You say you were sent to me?” I asked, cautiously.
“Yes; I assure you I am frankness itself. They never trust me with important secrets; I blurt them out;” and he laughed, as though that were rather a good trait. “Old Kolfort sent me—Old Kolfort for one.”
“I saw General Kolfort last evening,” I replied, drily. “But sit down and have a cigar, and then tell me why he is so interested in providing me with friends.”
“That’s a good straight question, but I’ll be hanged if I can answer it. He’s such a sly old fox, with fifty secret reasons for every plain one. Thanks, I’ll have a cigar. Well, he sent for me this morning—you know, I am on the Russian tack in all this business, and that for a reason which I’m pretty sure to let out before I’ve been many minutes with you; in fact, bound to, come to think of it—and—let’s see, where was I? Oh, yes; he sent for me, and said, ‘Lieutenant, I have a pleasant duty for you—and an important one. I wish you to go to Count Benderoff and make a friend of him—he told me your hotel—and do what you can to make his stay in Sofia pleasant, as it may be only a very short one. You’re the best man I know to let him see what’s worth seeing in the city, and to let him know what’s worth knowing.’”
“It promises to be a very kind act on his part.” I spoke sincerely, and my visitor smiled at the words.
“It shall be, if you’ll let me, Count, I assure you. But that old fox always has a bitter wrapped up somewhere in the sweet; and as I was leaving, after having talked you over, of course, he pretended to remember something, and said, ‘Oh, by the way, take this letter to the Count with an apology from me. By an unfortunate mistake it has got opened by some clumsy idiot, and was brought to me to know what should be done. Tell the Count I’m very sorry, but perhaps he may not care to send it for a week or so, after all.’ ‘What is it?’ said I. ‘Of no consequence; but the little act will be an introduction for you.’ Then I saw it was one of those infernal things that are always being done in this country—an intercepted letter, and I felt inclined to fling it in his face, only I daren’t. I let him have a word or two about choosing me for such work, but I brought it, and I’m afraid you’ll think I’m a regular cad to lend myself to such a thing. But I’ll tell you why I decided to bring it in a minute; and I hope I needn’t assure you I don’t know a word of what’s inside.”
I accepted his word without hesitation, and believed in his expressions of disgust at the mission. I took the letter readily enough, and was indeed glad that my little ruse had succeeded so completely. Then I gave it a finishing touch.
“I suppose he’ll expect you to report what I said. Well, here’s the answer.” I struck a match and set fire to the letter, holding it until it was consumed. “It’s not of the least consequence, I assure you, for I took the precaution to send off a duplicate in proper disguise.”
“The devil you did. I’m infernally glad to hear it. I love to hear of old Crafty being licked at his own game.” Then he started and rapped the table as he laughed and asked: “Was that a decoy? Oh, that’s lovely. I won’t tell him. I hate the old tyrant, and he knows it; but he knows, too, that I’m horribly afraid of him. And that’s what he likes. Gad, that’s good!” and he lay back in his chair and laughed aloud at the thought of the General being outwitted. “And he was so damned serious, too, that I know he thought he’d done a mighty smart thing.”
He was obviously sincere, and it was impossible not to see that he thoroughly enjoyed what he deemed a good joke. When he had had his laugh out, he gave a little sigh of relief as he said:
“Well, that’s over, and I hope you’ll acquit me of any personal part in the matter or humbug.”
“My dear sir, I acquit you of everything except of having done an unpleasant thing pleasantly,” I answered, cordially.
“Thanks. And now, is your stay going to be very short in Sofia? I must tell you before you answer that that’s a thing old Crafty told me to find out. I suppose he has some underground reason or other? He’s a beggar for that.”
“Frankly, I don’t know. I hope not, but I don’t yet know.”
“Well, I was surprised when he mentioned it, because we’d heard that you’d taken a big house, and were going to make a bit of a splash, you know. And, by Jove, it would be a blessing, for most of the houses here are just deadly dull.”
“‘We heard,’ you say?”
“How quick you are!” he answered with a smile, and he had a slightly heightened colour as he went on. “Yes, we—we two; not old Kolfort, you know. But—well, we’ve had a chat about you more than once; and last night, after you’d been at the General’s house, we had a regular consultation about you—and, to tell you the truth, that’s another reason why I’ve come.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“No, of course you don’t. I don’t altogether. I think; but——” He hesitated, and pulled at his cigar for some moments in a little embarrassment. “You see, it’s a bit difficult to make you understand without telling what a man doesn’t care to talk about. I suppose something happened at the General’s that affected you closely, and made you—hang it all! Wait a minute, and let me try and think how I was to put it.”
I smiled again at this, and watched him as he fidgeted with his cigar somewhat nervously and uneasily.
“You saw the Princess there, didn’t you? I don’t know, but I heard something or other; and, anyway, she must have been speaking to—to someone who spoke to me. Doesn’t that sound rather ridiculous?”
But I scarcely heard his question. The reference to the Princess Christina had set my thoughts whirling at the bare idea that he was in some remote way a messenger from her, and that she was sufficiently interested in me to make these indirect inquiries as to my movements and intentions.
“Yes, I saw the Princess last night,” I said, breaking the pause. “Do you come from her?” I was astonished at the steadiness of the tone in which I spoke.
“Well, yes; but yet not exactly—oh, hang it all, I’d better out with it. I shall only make a mess of things;” and he laughed gaily, and flushed. “I came to you mainly because I was asked to do so by Mademoiselle Broumoff, who is one of her closest companions; and Mademoiselle Broumoff and I are, in fact, betrothed. Now you’ve got it, Count; and that’s why I fiddled about just now, and didn’t know quite what to say.”
“I am much mistaken if Mademoiselle Broumoff, whose acquaintance I shall hope to make, is not an exceedingly fortunate girl, lieutenant; and I speak without the least affectation when I say that your news interests me deeply.”
It did, in all truth. To have as a friend someone who was in the close confidence of the Princess herself, was a stroke of good fortune which I could indeed appreciate; and I resolved to bind this handsome young officer to me by all possible bonds.
“The one commission is an antidote to the other, at any rate, I hope,” said Spernow; “and if it’s any gratification to you to know it, you can rest assured that the Princess takes a lively interest in you, and for some reason or other feels herself under some sort of obligation to you. Frankly, I don’t know what it is; but I do know there are plenty of our fellows who’d like to stand in your shoes in such a thing. You can’t think how we worship that woman!” he cried, with a flash of sudden enthusiasm.
“I can think of no cause for such a feeling of obligation,” said I, speaking indifferently to hide the tingling glow of delight at his words.
“Oh, of course. By Jove, I was nearly forgetting,” he exclaimed, with a jerk, as he plunged his hand into his pocket and brought out a packet of papers. “Are you engaged for to-morrow night?”
“I? No indeed.”
“Then you’ll be able to come all right. I’ve got you a card for the ball at the Assembly. It’s a big do; and most of the folks worth knowing will be there, if you want to know them.”
“Is this from the General?”
“Well, not exactly, though he’ll be glad enough for you to go. Mademoiselle Broumoff put me up to it.”
“Then I may have the pleasure of seeing her there?”
“Of course, she’s going, rather; and the Princess too. You’ll come?”
“I shall be very pleased. It is just the chance I shall welcome.”
Was this another little personal attention from the Princess, or merely a development of the policy of winning me to the Russian side? I was turning this over, and thinking how far I could get the answer from Spernow, when a servant came to say that the two officers who had called earlier in the day had returned.
I told the man to show them in, and explained matters to Spernow. He knew them, he said, but not their errand.
This was soon explained, and caused me no little surprise.
“We come from Lieutenant Ristich,” said Captain Dimitrieff, speaking very formally and stiffly.
“And who is Lieutenant Ristich?” I asked. “I do not know him.”
“You met yesterday at General Kolfort’s house, and he considers that you insulted him. Will you be good enough to tell me who will act for you? The facts have been explained to me.”
“Do you mean that the lieutenant wishes to force a quarrel upon me? I remember him now, of course; but I know of no insult, and certainly I have no quarrel with him.”
The captain raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.
“Shall I say, then, that you prefer to apologise?” he asked, superciliously.
“Certainly not,” I returned sharply, stung by his manner. “What I mean is that nothing passed which need make another encounter between us necessary.”
“That is an impasse.”
“I cannot help that,” said I, indifferently.
“Well, you must either fight, sir, or refuse to fight; and in the latter case the lieutenant says he will be driven to the extreme course of publicly insulting you.”
“This is monstrous,” I answered angrily. “It is nothing less than forcing a quarrel upon me, as I say. But if that is the lieutenant’s mood, and he wishes for another lesson in swordsmanship, I’ll give it him. I have but very few friends here in Sofia, but the matter shall be arranged without delay. Perhaps——” I looked across at Spernow.
“Can I be of any assistance, Count?” he said, eagerly.
“I shall be deeply obliged if you will. Perhaps these gentlemen will retire to another room for a few minutes, and then you can wait on them, and matters can be put in course before they leave the hotel.”
They went, and I explained all that was necessary to Spernow, telling him that I attached little importance to the affair, and that I had already proved myself much more than a match for the lieutenant with the sword; that as the challenged party I should choose swords; but that the conditions were to be made as little stringent as possible, so that the fight could be stopped as soon as either was wounded, however slightly.
He went away then, and when he returned said that he had made all arrangements, and that we were to meet early the next morning at a spot just outside the town, often used for the purpose.
“Mademoiselle Broumoff will take a keen interest in this business, Count,” he said, as he was leaving me later. “Lieutenant Ristich is an object of her deepest hatred; and so will the Princess for the matter of that. He is no favourite of hers either.”
“You will say nothing, of course, until it is over; and you will get a friend to act with you, and perhaps you will both breakfast with me afterwards.”
“With pleasure. You take it coolly, Count,” he said as we shook hands.