The Intriguers

It had been a cold drive. The two men who had guarded the prisoner stepped outside and stamped their feet. The other two, who were more chilled, dismounted from the box.

The leader of the party peered at the unconscious figure. “He is still in the land of dreams, my dear friends,” he said. “Well, while he is sleeping and we are changing horses, we will get a warm drink.”

The four men tramped into the bar of the small inn, where they comforted themselves with the refreshment they desired. They had no wish to delay their departure, but it would take a few minutes to change the tired horses, they might as well enjoy themselves in the interval. They were members of the criminal class whom Peter, the valet, had employed in his master’s interests, but they were very game fellows. They would never round on their old friend Peter.

Suddenly in the midst of their revels, for the one original drink had extended itself to three or four, a decrepit old ostler shambled in with a white and scared face. He was an aged man, toothless, and with a voice that scarcely rose above a hoarse whisper.

“Every man who wants to save himself had better run as fast as he can,” he croaked, with a meaning glance at the four men assembled in the small parlour. “The place is full of police. They have surrounded the carriage. They will be inside in a moment.”

The two younger men of the party took the hint at once, escaped through a side door and bolted somewhere away in the darkness of the night. The other two, staggered by the unexpected course of events, had not wit or agility enough to save themselves. In a second they were seized and handcuffed by the agents of the law.

Corsini’s inanimate form was carried in. General Beilski had taken the precaution to send a doctor along with the police. He had accurately guessed that those who wanted to “deport a certain person,” would take the precaution of drugging him first and keeping him under narcotics during the journey.

So heavily had the unfortunate young man been drugged, that it was some time before the doctor could bring him to a waking state. At last he opened his dazed eyes and gazed wonderingly round at the narrow little room in which he had been laid.

“Where am I?” he ejaculated slowly. His senses were not yet well ordered. He had hazy recollections of the Zouroff Palace, of a conversation with the Princess Nada, a confession to her of his ambition to be a great composer as well as a great executant, of a walk through the silent streets, the sudden appearance of some men. Then a blank.

The doctor bent over him and spoke in a soothing voice. In spite of the ashen and livid face, he recognised him at once. The doctor came from St. Petersburg in the company of the police, and he had seen the portrait of the new Director of the Imperial Opera in several newspapers. Here was some subtle mystery to which he had not the key.

“You are amongst friends, Signor Corsini. I am going to give you another injection, and after that you will have a little light food before we take you back to St. Petersburg.”

Corsini’s tired eyes wandered round the room. He saw the kind, compassionate face of the doctor bending over the sofa on which he had been laid. He saw also three men in police uniform and a tall, bearded man who was evidently the leader of the party. Then his eyes closed again and he relapsed into insensibility.

The doctor swore under his breath and turned to the tall, bearded man.

“They have nearly done for him with their infernal doping, but in an hour from now I shall have him in trim to take back to the General. Have you got all those scoundrels?”

The tall, bearded man shook his head with a melancholy air. “Alas! only two of them, doctor. The other two escaped, warned, no doubt, by some ruffian in this inn. Still, I have got two and I will do my best to make them speak before I have done with them.”

CHAPTER XVII

Corsini, pale and exhausted from his terrible experiences, sat in Golitzine’s study. General Beilski was there also.

“Now, Signor, we want to get at the bottom of this.” It was the Count who was speaking. Beilski was a devoted adherent of the Czar, and had been promoted to his high post through the Imperial favour, but he was not a man of very considerable mentality, and the astute secretary had, privately, a very poor opinion of him.

Corsini struggled to collect his wandering thoughts.

“It seems all like a very bad and confused dream, your Excellency. I remember playing at the Zouroff Palace. I had a short conversation with the Princess Nada. I left early; the Prince accompanied me to the door. I remember distinctly the hall-porter and an obscure sort of person lounging in the doorway. I left and walked along in the direction of my hotel. Suddenly I was surrounded by four men – footpads, as I surmised. They seized me and drugged me. The rest is a blank. I woke up in a little bedroom in an obscure inn, with a kind doctor bending over me. Then, there are sleeping and waking intervals, and I find myself here in your Excellency’s house.”

“Can you carry your mind a little farther back, Signor Corsini? You recognise that you were kidnapped by some persons who desired your disappearance.”

“I understand that perfectly, Count. Let me go back a little. There are certain suspicious circumstances that recur to me.”

Beilski and the Count exchanged significant glances. Golitzine motioned the young man to proceed.

“I was engaged to play at the Zouroff Palace last night. I had already acquainted your Excellency with that fact.”

The Count nodded a little impatiently. He was anxious to get at the facts.

“A very singular thought has occurred to me, gentlemen. Madame Quéro was very insistent that I should not play at the Zouroff Palace. On two occasions she endeavoured strongly to dissuade me, to make me break my appointment.”

The other two men exchanged an even more significant glance. They were getting close to the truth.

Nello had paused. He seemed desirous to say more, but something kept him back. Golitzine noticed his hesitation.

“Come, Signor Corsini, out with it. You have not yet told us all you surmise or suspect. We know about La Belle Quéro. There is something else you can tell us if you choose.”

Corsini was never a very good dissembler. He was as wax in the hands of these experienced men of the world.

“A singular thing, gentlemen, after thinking over all those things, is this. Perhaps you know that it is a peculiarity of mine to always walk to and from my engagements.”

“It is a peculiarity of yours that has been already commented on,” said Golitzine, who knew everything about everybody. “Proceed, Signor.”

“It is just a thing that has struck me as a little peculiar, taken in conjunction with the whole circumstances. Madame Quéro, whom I know you suspect, was very insistent that I should not go to the Zouroff Palace, without assigning any definite or plausible reason.”

“We have already understood that,” interrupted Beilski, rubbing his hands. “Perhaps we may now come to something that throws more light on the affair.”

Corsini proceeded. “I had a brief conversation with the Princess Nada.” He blushed slightly as he continued. “She was pleased to express some solicitude for my welfare, my health. She thought I was not looking well, that I had been working too hard. She asked if I had a carriage waiting for me. I answered in the negative, telling her that I always preferred to walk home. She offered to procure a conveyance for me, and added that it could be drawn up at a private entrance to the Palace, as there was a great crush in the main entrance. Gentlemen, I have told you all the facts, it is for you to draw your inferences. It is pretty evident that both Madame Quéro and the Princess had an inkling, perhaps actual knowledge, of the danger that was threatening me, and dared not say more than they did.”

Golitzine rose and drew the General into a corner.

“The thing is clear enough. The two women have been in league to save this young man. La Quéro has split upon Zouroff, because she is in love with Corsini, and has enlisted the sympathies of the Princess, probably in love with Corsini herself. You see it, General?”

Beilski had not the agile intelligence of the Count, but when it was so clearly put before him, he saw it.

“The young woman who brought the note is the maid of one of them,” he said tersely. “Well, my men shall bring both the maids before me to-morrow and I will wring the truth out of one of them. In the meantime, how shall we proceed with Corsini?”

“Take him back to his hotel. Fudge any story you like to the manager – been taken ill in my house, or yours, it does not matter which. Let him go about his usual duties and let him be safely guarded till we bring this home to the proper quarters. How about those men accompanying the carriage?”

“Alas! I have only bagged a couple,” answered the General regretfully. “The others escaped through the want of vigilance on the part of my men.”

“And what have the two you captured got to say for themselves?”

“Just nothing. Their lips are sealed. They will take their own punishment, but they will not give away their employer. If we had lived in the old days we could have made them speak.”

Golitzine crossed over to the young Italian.

“Signor Corsini, I cannot say how deeply I am grieved that you should have been subjected to this outrage. Rest assured it shall be tracked home to the proper quarters, and you shall be amply avenged. I have asked General Beilski to put a secure guard around you whenever you venture abroad. You need fear no repetition. Salmoros would never forgive me if you came to harm.”

Corsini was taken back to his hotel, wondering over all the things that had happened to him. A tale was fudged up to the manager that he had been attacked with sudden indisposition at the house of Count Golitzine, and compelled to remain there. Beilski took good care that he was unobtrusively guarded by members of the secret police.

The next thing was to get hold of the two maids. The General’s satellites secured the one in the service of Madame Quéro, and brought her along.

Beilski interrogated her himself, but the cross-examination of five minutes convinced him that she was not the woman who had brought the note. And the porter was equally certain on this point. She was a person of different build.

He dismissed her with a caution, as he handed her some coins.

“I would prefer that you kept your mouth shut about this visit. Still, it is very probable you will blab about it to your mistress.”