I should have reckoned it bad luck to run up against Elma once more under any circumstances; but it was much worse to find her installed here in Belgrade, a woman of rank, wealth and influence, in close touch with the court and with Gatrina, and taking a part in the game of political intrigue likely to render her a serious opponent to my purpose.
There was no use blinking at ugly facts, or attempting to hide from myself that if she came to learn the real purpose of my presence in Belgrade, she could do me incalculable mischief; and I did not begin to persuade myself that if the occasion arose she would hesitate to do it.
It was in this wise. In those silly, calf days of my boyish infatuation I had written the usual wild, high-falutin nonsense to her—and plenty of it. Pouring out my soul to her, I had thought it then: making an egregious young ass of myself, I deemed it now; but soulful or asinine, there were the letters on record against me. Nor could I doubt that if Elma found me attempting to use my influence with Gatrina against the plans of the Russian party those letters would be used for all they were worth to checkmate that influence.
Elma had indeed been clever enough to appeal to me to bury the past and to hint that she was afraid of my revealing what I knew about her. But she had meant it more as a bluffing appeal to my sense of honour. She knew she had little enough to fear from any revelations. They might damage her Court influence; but the Russian authorities who employed her would not care a red cent. They would have no inconvenient scruples so long as she was useful to them. Very probably they knew all about her already, and had perhaps used the knowledge to give a twist to the screw which kept her zealous in their service.
I flinched and flushed at the thought of those letters being read by Gatrina. That must be stopped somehow, and I must get them back into my possession. But how? I could not see any means at present. Elma was just an abominably clever woman. She had shewn that by rising to her present position out of the ashes of that old scandal in Prague; and I was only too painfully conscious that in any play of wits in such a matter she would almost certainly outwit me.
Yet disconcerting as was this personal side of the matter, it was not by any means the most disturbing result of that talk with her.
She had made me realise that the obstacles in my way were vastly greater than I had reckoned. The whole axis of the position seemed to have shifted, indeed. I had come to Belgrade with the somewhat vague notion that by means of my wealth and the knowledge I had gained of the character of Prince Albrevics, I should be able to stop the proposed marriage. But that somewhat arrogant assurance was beaten out of me at a stroke. Money was useless here.
I saw that Gatrina’s marriage was the centre round which two at least of these ugly schemes of high political intrigue actually revolved. It was one of the most critical issues of that most critical time; and in regard to it her happiness and welfare were just the last things to which anyone concerned gave five cent’s worth of consideration.
The Court scheme meant her sacrifice to such a man as this Albrevics in order that she might be out of the way of the Queen’s project to secure the succession for her brother. The Russian plan was scarcely less treacherous. They were wishing to use her as a counter in order to get their own puppet on the Throne. No more and no less.
Then there was the third plot—that of the army; and so far as it concerned Gatrina it threatened to be worse than either of the others. If it came to a head and Elma’s grim forecast of assassination were realised, it would be directed against the Obrenovics family as a whole. Gatrina, as a member of that family, would be in actual personal danger; for it was difficult to think that one so directly in the line of succession as she was would be allowed to slip through the meshes of a net flung wide and drawn in by strong, angry, merciless hands.
I had looked for anything rather than this. But Elma had outlined the picture; and my own concern for Gatrina soon painted in the details in lurid and alarmist colours.
I was still groping for the guiding thread in all this tangled skein of trouble when the first of my appointed visitors was announced, and I had to assume my role of hard-headed business man in regard to the proposed loan.
He was a man high up in the Government, and I listened gravely to his proposals, putting a number of objections much as I had done in Vienna; and then said that I had heard so much of the instability of the Government and of plots and conspiracies, that I must take time to satisfy myself what they all meant.
“You need have no apprehension, Mr. Bergwyn,” he declared blandly. “The Throne and the Government have never been more secure; and now that the vexed question of the succession is about to be so happily settled, there is not the slightest ground for alarm.”
“To be settled how?”
“By the marriage of the Princess Gatrina to Prince Albrevics. All faction will end with that.”
“And Russia?”
He waved his hands deprecatingly. “Russia will accept the situation. She always does, when once it is established.”
“But the Queen’s popularity?”
“Was never greater. Her strength is paramount.”
“And her intentions as to her brother’s succession?”
“The merest canard—absolutely without foundation.”
“You think Prince Albrevics would be accepted by the country?”
“Personally I regret he is not a—not more discreet. But he will reform when his responsibilities grow.”
“How many hold that view?”
“He is not popular, it is true; but we Serbs are a peace-loving people and, when a thing is settled and makes for peace, we accept it and work for it.”
“And the army?”
“There has been discontent, I know, and certain appointments have been made by the Crown which have provoked criticism. But the leaders are loyal and sound. There will be no trouble.”
“I would wish to convince myself at first hand. Whom should I see? I want the name of a man who knows; and not necessarily a Government man.”
“You can take it from me.”
“That does not mean you would rather I saw no one?”
He flinched at the blunt question very slightly and then smiled. “Certainly not. I am not so foolish. You have come to convince yourself and we wish to help you do this. There is, of course, some disaffection in certain regiments; but on no considerable scale. No man knows the feeling of the army as a whole better than Colonel Petrosch. And you can speak to him freely. He is the better man for you to see, perhaps, because he is not by any means a friend of the Court.”
I remembered the name as one which had been given me by my Austrian friends in Vienna; and having thus obtained what I wanted, I got rid of my visitor as soon as possible.
As soon as he had gone I looked up the note I had made about this Colonel Petrosch and was surprised to find him described as a man with a strong grievance against the Government, having considerable influence in the army, and believed to be using that influence against the Throne.
This looked as though he were the very man I sought, and I resolved to go to him at once. But I was to have a stroke of good fortune in that matter. I was ready to start when my servant, Buller, came in.
“There is a rough-looking fellow asking for you, sir, and says you sent for him. But I thought I’d better tell you first. I told him you were busy and that he had better write.”
“What name?”
“I couldn’t catch his name, sir. I can’t understand the language; but it sounded something like Crash.”
I laughed. “Karasch, Buller. Bring him up at once; and be very civil to him. He wishes to be your fellow-servant.”
Buller’s features were at that moment a study. Well-trained servant though he was, and correct and phlegmatic as an Englishman could be, it was now beyond his power to conceal the dismay and disgust he felt at the prospect.
“Yes, sir,” he stammered at length and turned to go.
“He saved my life, Buller, at the risk of his own; and I think a heap of him, even if he does lack a little polish.”
“Yes, sir,” he said now in his most correct manner, and went out to return in a moment. “This way, Mr. Crash,” I heard him say as he opened the door, and not a trace of feeling was on his stolid face as he ushered him in.
Karasch was vastly impressed at finding me in such surroundings and his fine dark eyes rolled about him with a gaze of wonderment and settled first upon Chris, who got up at his entrance, and then upon me. I think he was not a little nervous for all his attempt to appear self-possessed.
“I have done my lord’s bidding,” he said at length.
“Is your arm better, Karasch?”
He started as though the question recalled the old tussle between us. “It is getting well, my lord.” He felt apparently that I ought to be addressed by some title.
“Good; then sit down and tell me what you’ve done; and by the way, don’t call me my lord.”
A glance round the room and a waive of the hand shewed me his thought. “As you please, Excellency; I am only your servant.”
“Very well, we’ll leave it at that. Now tell me your news.”
“I have seen the friends of the men who took away the lady, and I know who they were serving. I have also seen her and know who she is.”
“Who hired them?”
“The Duke Barinski of Jagodina, Excellency. She is the Princess Gatrina—but the men did not know her.”
“Duke Barinski! Are you sure?” I exclaimed. This was news indeed. “Are you sure, Karasch?”
“I have seen the man with whom he made the bargain. He is at your service now, Excellency; I have paid him. If you wish to see him, I will bring him here.”
“All I need is to be quite certain. He would not deceive you?”
“He knows better, Excellency,” answered Karasch, with a dry, significant smile. “I hold his life here;” and he held out his hand with fingers and thumb pressed together.
“Tell me all.”
“There is but little to tell, Excellency.” He appeared to derive some sort of satisfaction from using this title frequently. “I knew where to go for the information, as I told you; and as soon as I had done as your Excellency bade me and seen a doctor about my arm, I sought the men out; they are old companions of mine and, as I had money they welcomed me. For three days we drank together and I had the story from three or four of them, both when they were drunk and when sober; and it was always the same. The Princess was at the great house of the Baroness von Tulken one evening, and when she wished to leave, she was put into a carriage not her own with two of the men dressed in her livery. They drove her by a certain route and at an agreed spot the six men who were to take her to Maglai stopped the carriage and with a show of force seemed to compel the coachman to drive away into the country, two of the men entering the carriage to keep the Princess quiet. They told her they were brigands; and after some miles they compelled her to alight and ride with them. They were to take her to Maglai and to receive one thousand gulden, not three as they told your Excellency.”
“But the witchcraft business, Karasch?”
“The Duke Barinski told them she was a witch, Excellency, who had been detected and was being sent off privately in this way, because she had too many friends of influence to be tried openly in Belgrade. Had they known who she was really, they would have been afraid.”
“Then he risked her very life. They might have killed her.”
“No, Excellency; because not a kreutzer was to be paid to them at Maglai if the slightest harm was done to her. It was clever.”
“It was devilish,” I said, hotly. “Where in Maglai were they to take her and who was to pay the money?”
He produced a slip of paper with a name and address upon it. “You can make inquiries if you wish, Excellency,” he said. “You will find what I have said is the truth. It is the Duke Barinski’s plotting.”
“You don’t mean he went so far as to see these men himself?”
“He did not declare himself, Excellency; but he was recognised.”
I sat thinking a moment over the news.
“Have you any guess as to his motive?”
“No; I could have none; nor could my friends,” he answered, shaking his head.
“Would your men bear this story out even to his face?”
“Why not? They are now in your service—that is, if you wish me still to pay them.”
Money was not to be so entirely useless after all, it seemed. “Yes, pay them, Karasch. Have you any money left?”
“I have brought it;” and he produced the greater part of what I had given him.
“You had better keep it.”
“It will be safer with you. You can give it me as I need it, Excellency;” and he laid it on the table.
“Take what you want;” and he took a very moderate sum which he declared would be enough. I told him then that for the present he had better not live in my house but was to come night and morning for instructions, and to let me know how to communicate with him instantly in the event of my needing him in any pressing emergency.
His news gave me plenty of matter to chew, and I sat turning it over and over in my mind. I saw Elma’s pro-Russian hand in it plainly; and although Karasch and his companions could make no guess at the motive for the abduction, I could make one.
Had they succeeded in the scheme of getting Gatrina to Maglai they would have kept her there until she had consented to marry Duke Barinski. Then their plan to secure the succession would have come into the field of practical politics; the Queen would have been quietly checkmated; Russian influence would have openly backed up the united claim of the Duke and Gatrina; and the crooked path would suddenly have been made smooth.
Gatrina’s escape from her guards had alone prevented this and her safe return to Belgrade had no doubt completely disconcerted the schemers.
But they were not of the kind to put aside the plan because of this check and we might look for some other move from them equally daring, cunning and far-reaching.
They had acted cleverly indeed, and had blinded their tracks successfully. The Duke had kept carefully in the background and Elma had so far retained the confidence of Gatrina as actually to learn from her some details of her escape.
I did not forget her reference to the “adventure in which a dog called Chris” had played a part; and I might gamble on it that, if they discovered the part I had taken, I should soon find myself the object of some of their attentions. And they were antagonists whom anyone would be prudent to take very seriously.
Complications were developing at a merry rate; but Karasch’s news had suggested a way by which one of Gatrina’s suitors at any rate might be driven from the field.
This was to face the Duke himself, tell him what I knew, confront him with the men he had employed, and see what the effect on him would be of a threat to reveal the whole plot to the Court. The Queen’s readiness in dealing drastically with her enemies would frighten him surely enough; and I knew the Russian tactics too well not to feel assured that, if once he were discovered and disgraced, they would drop him instantly in favour of some shrewder tool.
Then came another development. A chamberlain from the Court brought me an invitation to a reception for the following night at the Palace; and was at some pains to make it clear that it was to be held out of compliment to myself and “those other illustrious Magnates of America” who were associated with me.
Money was talking loudly enough in that, at any rate; and I sent him away with an assurance of my appreciation of the honour, expressed in such flowery terms as occurred to me at the moment. Even as I was speaking to him my thoughts slipped back to what Elma had said about the “Queen’s advocate.”
I should meet Gatrina again. In a moment a hundred qualms of doubt were started as to how she would receive me, rendering me uneasy, restless, and almost nervous.
What would she say? How would she look? Would the brute she was going to marry be present? Would she reproach me for thus again forcing myself on her? Would she see through the flimsy hypocrisy of my pretended financial mission? Would she give me away to the Court? Should I get a chance of telling her of the danger in which she stood? And then, somehow, that scene on the hill at Samac a week before, came into my thoughts and I sat smoking, mooning and dreaming.
Gatrina seemed so desperately far removed from me now and the opposing forces were gathering such strength that my confidence of success gave ominous signs of wavering. The prospect of winning her looked like no more than a forlorn hope; and although I was as determined as ever to fight on until I was actually beaten, I felt a cold chill of doubt settling down upon me.
Buller entered, breaking my reverie just at that moment, to bring me a card. I took it impatiently.
“Captain Nikolitch, from Colonel Petrosch.”
I uttered an involuntary exclamation of delight. My visitor was a man who had been my close and intimate friend in that past time in the Balkans; and coming as he did from Colonel Petrosch, he was just the man of all others able to help me. No one could have been more welcome at such a juncture.
“Show him right here, Buller,” I said, gleefully, standing up to welcome him cordially.
The pendulum had swung right over suddenly and the luck was once again on my side.