Guilty Bonds

I flung myself into an easy-chair, and she came and stood beside me. Her hand smoothed my forehead with a tender caress, yet somehow I could not trust her; the ironic and brutal strokes of Fate had paralysed me, and I felt myself wholly stupefied.

“Sometimes, Frank, an unforeseen incident, a chance, an exterior influence, may bring on a disastrous crisis. It has unfortunately been so in my case,” she said, in a deep, earnest voice.

“Begin at the beginning. Let me know what is this strange mystery which has shadowed your life,” I urged, taking her hand in mine.

“Hush! we must not be overheard,” she replied, glancing apprehensively at the door. “I – I fully recognise how painful all these complications must have been to you, dear, but I assure you it is not my fault that I have not divulged. I had taken an oath – ”

“An oath!”

“Yes. I know it was purely from love that you married me, enveloped in mystery as I was; and, then, when you saw me in the Dene, and – and – thought me untrue – ah – you surely should have known me better than that. You know how I love you; and yet you suspected me!” she cried passionately.

“Don’t let’s talk of that,” I said, impatiently.

“When I have told you,” she continued, her eyes filling with tears, “you will no longer believe me Valse, even though I – your wife – have stained my Hands with crime!”

“What!” I cried, in amazement, “you?”

“Ah, no,” she answered, “and yet mine is a horrible crime. Listen! Years ago, when I was a little child, my father, Count Nicholas, held a responsible position at the Court of the Czar at Petersburg. His closest friend was Sergius Orselska – the man you know as Hertzen – his half-brother. His son, Demetrius, and I were playmates.”

“But what of Boris. The man who gave evidence to-day?”

“He is my brother. When the Russo-Turkish war broke out, my father, who was an officer, was placed in command of a troop, Boris having in the meantime joined the Cossacks. The Count served with distinction throughout the campaign; but, alas! after the fall of Plevna, he received news that my brother had been killed in an engagement with some insurgents in Georgia.

“Overcome with sorrow, my father retired from the army, and took me to live in a gloomy old house in the Njazlov at Warsaw. While we were leading a somewhat secluded existence the revolutionary movement sprang up in Poland; the people commenced their struggle for freedom, and the propaganda took root with alarming rapidity. My father, a loyal subject of the Czar, believed that his warmest friend, Serge Orselska, held views similar to his own, but, as I afterwards discovered, he was mistaken. This half-brother was a scheming scoundrel, who having allied himself with the Terrorists, determined upon making it a lucrative business by becoming a police spy, so that he could give secret information regarding the conspirators. In this he had more than one object in view. My father had occasion to travel to Petersburg on business connected with his estate, and remained there several weeks. On the day following his return to Warsaw the grand coup was made, and the Czar was assassinated by a bomb thrown at his sleigh. The world was convulsed. My father, honest loyalist that he was, regarded this action of the Nihilists most unfavourably.

“Yet as soon as Alexander the Third had succeeded the dead Emperor my poor father was arrested, conveyed to Petersburg, and charged with being implicated in the assassination! Though the accusation was utterly unfounded, the perjured evidence was much against him. He was found guilty, and condemned to Siberian hard labour for life. I was in Court and heard sentence pronounced. Ah! Grand Dieu! Shall I ever forget that day?

“He was despatched with a convoy of prisoners to Asia, but on the way endeavoured to escape, and was shot dead. It was the new Czar who was responsible for my beloved father’s death; he was his murderer! and I swore it should be avenged, even if my own life were sacrificed in the attempt. Then I went to live under the guardianship of Serge Orselska, who, hearing my vow, admitted that he was a Nihilist, and persuaded me to take the oath to the Executive. I did so, and, confident of success, swore that I would make three attempts to remove the Autocrat of the Russias, adding, as a stipulation, that if none were successful the oath should be removed. Thus I developed into an enthusiastic and patriotic Terrorist. Bent upon avenging my father’s wrongs, I was prepared to go to any length, and to follow the examples of Jessy Helfman and Sophia Perovskaia in order to accomplish my object.”

“Fancy, you – a Nihilist!” I said, incredulously in abject astonishment.

“Yes, and I was not idle either. The schemes of our Circle having matured sufficiently to allow me to make the first attempt, I did so. We were living in Petersburg at the time, and although everything appeared to favour me, the plot failed at the last moment. The police, however grew suspicious, and we were compelled to fly from Russia. My uncle – who had assumed the name of Hertzen – and I, travelled first to Paris, and for a couple of years led a wandering life, visiting nearly all the European capitals. I devoted to the Cause a large portion of the fortune left me by my father, and was looked upon by the members of the Circle as one who would probably be successful in effecting our purpose. If I did, I told myself it would be but a life for a life. I believed that a terrible victory would be obtained by the Party, and saw everything in a rose-coloured light.”

Notwithstanding the overwhelming passion which filled her heart, and revealed itself painfully in spite of her, in her face, and her voice, she tried to speak slowly and calmly. There was an expression of indescribable suffering, too, around her mouth and in her eyes, which told me that this chapter of her life she would have hidden forever, if she could.

“Then it was during these wanderings that we met?” I said.

“Exactly. Fate brought us together in Genoa just as we were arranging the second attempt. I was in sore need of a friend, and – why should I hesitate to admit it – when first we met, I loved you. But, cruel Fate! mine has been a love which has almost brought death to you,” she faltered.

“How?”

“My uncle – always a scheming villain – laid his plans deeply in this, as in other things. I was the instigator of the attempt to be made, and was at my wits’ ends to know how to get the instrument conveyed to Petersburg. The police were keeping a sharp look-out, and for any of our Circle to have entered Russia would have been highly dangerous. Notwithstanding this, I was determined to succeed. Meanwhile our affection was not unnoticed by Orselska, who spoke to me upon the subject. Remember, he was my guardian, and, not being of age, I was bound to obey him in a certain measure. When I admitted that I loved you and that you had asked me to be your wife, he flew into a passion, and said he would never give his consent. For several days he was harsh and unkind, when suddenly his manner changed and he again referred to the matter. He said he would give his consent with one stipulation: that I should, as a test of your love, get you to take the instrument to Petersburg, the – ”

“The instrument! What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean, that the box you took to the Russian capital did not contain jewels at all; it was dynamite clock!”

“An infernal machine!”

“Yes. It was that which wrecked the Winter Palace on the day you were arrested. But listen, and you will learn the depth of Orselska’s villainy. Already by his treachery my poor father had been degraded and killed, and the fortune left to me was in his hands. He was determined to keep it, and there were but two ways of doing this: either I, too, must be killed, or marry his son Demetrius. Now you see why he schemed that you should be sent upon that dangerous errand. You were sent, Frank dear, so that on your arrival he, as a police spy, could give information which would secure your arrest and exile?”

“Impossible!” I cried. “Yet the explosion accounts for the excitement on the night of my arrest.”

“It is true, every word,” my wife asserted.

“I was arrested, nevertheless.”

“Yes, and it was with difficulty that we planned your escape. Partisans of Czaricide, those assisting in the struggle of freedom, however, are to be found in every class of society in my downtrodden country. The military and prison officials are no exception. My brother Boris, who was not – after all – dead, had allied himself with the Nihilists from the same motives as myself, and chanced to be the officer in command of the escort ordered to take your convoy to Siberia. Two of the prison warders were members of my Circle. Your trial was avoided by the judicious exercise of stratagem. When you changed clothes with the dead convict you ceased to exist in the eyes of the law, and your subsequent escape, due mainly to the exertions of Boris, was rendered easy.”

“Why did you remain silent so long after my return to England?”

She gazed upon me with loving eyes, and ran her fingers tenderly through my hair as she replied, – “Because I strove to forget you. I was ashamed at the deceit I had been compelled to practise, and felt that you could never forgive me sufficiently to again have confidence in me.”

“But I have done so, Vera.”

“Yes, that is why I am so happy – or – or rather, I shall be happy,” she replied, endeavouring to smile.

“Finish your story, and we shall no longer be alienated.”

“My confession is unpleasant, nay, horrible, but I must continue it,” she sighed. “After your escape from Russia my uncle, from some inexplicable cause, turned against me, and I had but one friend, Demetrius. As the playmate of my youth who had been absent many years, he renewed his acquaintanceship with a kindness and tenderness that caused me to suspect his intentions. My surmise proved correct. He asked me to marry him; and I, having in a manner pledged myself to you, refused.”

“And what did he do?”

“It made but little difference. We were none the less friends; for even though the father is a vile schemer, the son is not.”

“You refused him because you loved me so well?”

“Yes, dear, I did,” she replied.

Then she bent, and our lips met.

Chapter Thirty Four

A Strange Disclosure

The door opened, and Boris Seroff stood before us.

Little introduction was necessary. We grasped each other’s hands.

“My brother! The man of whom you were jealous,” laughed Vera, as she nervously twisted the ribbons of her wrap around her hand.

“Well,” said Boris, heartily, “I’m pleased we are relatives, and that we have at last met. The mystery you have so long tried to solve can now be cleared up.”

“I have just been relating my history,” said Vera, naïvely.

“Then I will explain something of mine, although it is a story not enticing to tell,” Boris exclaimed, a shadow of pain crossing his face.

“Let me know all!” I urged, impatiently. “What I have already heard has almost bewildered me; I can scarcely realise its truth.”