The Intriguers

“Far from it, Princess,” replied the singer, speaking with a frankness that a second later she regretted.

“And perhaps, too, Signor Corsini is not exactly what he seems?” queried Nada. Intuition was leading her very near the truth.

“Of that I cannot speak with any certainty. Your brother has certain suspicions of him, but I have no means of knowing whether they are well- or ill-founded. One thing is certain, Prince Boris goes in fear of him and meditates harm to him.”

“You are sure of his intentions?” asked Nada.

Madame Quéro shrugged her shapely shoulders. “Should I be here, if I were not?”

The Princess questioned her a little more closely. “You will not tell me more than you wish, I know, but I think I am entitled to put this question. How did you learn his intentions, from himself or a third party?”

And the singer answered truthfully. “From his own lips.”

Nada was silent for some seconds. She was working it out in her own mind, on the somewhat scanty data that had been furnished her.

“You mean that the Prince intends to get Signor Corsini out of the way by some treacherous means?”

“That is the idea that is forming in his mind, Princess.”

“When will he put that idea into action, do you think?” was Nada’s next question.

“Corsini plays here at the Prince’s request to-morrow evening – is that not so?”

Yes, it was true. She had written the invitation herself at Zouroff’s request.

“Well, the Prince is a man who acts very rapidly when he has once made up his mind. It is my belief that whatever project he has formed will be put into execution to-morrow night.”

Nada put her hand to her brow. “It is horrible, Madame, unthinkable, that a brother of mine should stoop so low. Why should he have a secret so guilty, that he cannot afford to have it dragged forth into the light?”

Madame Quéro did not answer the question directly. “I fear, Princess, your brother is not a man easily to be read even by those who have lived in the same house with him.”

“What is it you suggest that I should do?” asked the Princess after a long pause. “Shall I meet him at the entrance and entreat him to go away at once, on some pretext or another? And what might follow if I took such a strange step? I cannot bring myself to confess to him that I suspect my own brother of base designs against him.”

It was a puzzling question, which Madame Quéro could not answer at once. For some moments the two women, their mutual hostility suspended for the time being, put their wits together. Suddenly an idea occurred to the singer.

“That maid of yours, who interviewed me on your behalf. Can you trust her?”

“She is devoted to me,” was the Princess’s answer.

“Your brother, I happen to know, has one or two confidential servants in his employ.”

“Yes,” said Nada, looking at her visitor steadily. It was evident that if the Prince concealed some things from Madame Quéro, there were many things that he told her. The girl had a very shrewd suspicion that the guilty secret which Corsini had discovered was also known to the beautiful singer herself.

“It is just possible that if your maid instituted a few discreet inquiries in certain quarters, she might learn something.”

“Can you suggest any particular quarter in which she could put them?” asked the Princess. It was evident that the Spanish woman knew a great deal about the Zouroff household – a great deal more than she did herself.

“Peter, his valet, is, I know, absolutely in his master’s confidence.”

“That is fortunate,” remarked Nada; “because I happen to know that Katerina and he are very great friends; in fact, I believe lovers.”

She rose, touched the bell and commanded the attendance of her maid. For a long time the two women, mistress and servant, talked together in Russian. Madame Quéro, who only knew two languages, her own and French, could not, of course, follow them.

The Princess explained the result of the interview. “I have enlisted Katerina’s sympathies, she is going to find out if Peter knows anything.”

Madame Quéro rose. “Whatever it is, I am sure he will have a hand in it, although I don’t expect he will take an active part. Well, Princess, I must leave it to you to take what steps may occur to you.”

Nada put to her the shrewd question. “Is it impossible for you to take any steps yourself, Madame?”

A shamed expression came into the singer’s beautiful eyes. “Alas, Princess, I fear I must admit it is. If the Prince could trace anything to me directly, his vengeance would follow me very swiftly.”

Nada shuddered. She had long ago ceased to entertain any illusions as to her brother. She knew he was hard, tyrannical, brutal, and pitiless. But this conversation with the foreign woman had thrown a new and sinister light upon his character. There was in him, in addition to these disagreeable qualities, a strong criminal taint.

He did not intend to spare Corsini, and from what she had just heard, he would not, if necessity arose, spare the woman to whom he professed attachment, but would punish her ruthlessly for daring to thwart his plans. And the poor young Princess shuddered again as the thought crossed her that he would not be likely to spare his own sister, if she offended him in the same way.

It was not till the middle of the next day that Katerina had charmed out of Peter certain information which confirmed her worst fears.

Briefly, the information amounted to this. The Prince had sent one of his trusted servants into the country to order relays of horses. A travelling carriage was to be waiting at midnight close to the Zouroff Palace. But Peter either did not know, or would not tell, who was to be the occupant or the persons in attendance on the carriage.

One little important detail he had dropped. The carriage was to make its first halt at Pavlovsk, the first stage of the journey, on the Moscow road.

There was no longer any doubt in Nada’s mind as to the Prince’s intentions. Corsini was to be entrapped on leaving the Palace and thrust into the carriage; in all probability, drugged and bound. Of his ultimate fate she shuddered to think.

She knew the Chief of Police, General Beilski, well. He was an old friend of the family, also one of the Emperor’s most trusted adherents. While devoted to her mother and herself, he had never shown himself much attached to the Prince.

Nothing easier than for her to pay a private visit to the General at his office, or invite him to the Palace, and request his assistance in thwarting her brother’s foul designs. It was the course which Madame Quéro could have taken had she so wished, in the first instance.

The same reason held back both women. Such a step must have brought about the immediate ruin of Zouroff, with its consequent degradation for his relatives. The General was a man who would put duty and patriotism before every other consideration. He would not consent to any paltering with justice, he would drive no bargain. He would not save Corsini at the cost of letting the Prince go free and unpunished.

It was a terrible situation for so young a girl, thrown upon her own resources. True, she could have taken counsel with her mother, but she shrank from exposing her brother’s villainy to such a close relation. She would keep the shameful secret locked in her own breast so long as it was possible.

And then came a ray of light. She wrote a letter in a feigned hand to the General, which ran thus:

“A travelling carriage will set out to-night from St. Petersburg at any time after midnight, and will halt at Pavlovsk, on the road to Moscow. Let the carriage be examined, as the writer of this letter has reason to believe there is a plot afoot to deport a certain person well-known in artistic circles.”

This she handed to Katerina, whom the General had never seen, with instructions to take it to his office and hand it for delivery to some responsible person. She was to disguise herself as well as she could, and not linger a moment after she had delivered the letter. It was next to impossible that Beilski should ever discover where that letter came from, but she was certain he would act upon it at once.

What would follow from her action she could not foresee; but she had done the best, according to her lights, to save the young man who had had the misfortune to cross her brother’s path.

Zouroff, just returned from his journey into the country, entered her charming little boudoir half an hour after she had despatched Katerina with the warning note.

He seemed in a good mood to-day. With bitterness at her heart, she guessed the reason. He had laid his plans so well for this evening that he did not anticipate any likelihood of their being disturbed.

He greeted her with a sort of rough geniality. “Well, little Nada, you seem very thoughtful. Wondering what particularly charming costume you will wear to-night?”

With difficulty she forced herself to meet his gaze, to banish from her own the loathing that was in her heart. She tried to speak lightly, so that he should suspect nothing from her voice or manner.

“Not quite accurate, Boris. No, I have decided on the costume. I was really wondering what jewels I should select.”