The Czar's Spy: The Mystery of a Silent Love
do not exist and denouncing the innocent as "politicals."
The Baron had halted, and was looking through one of the great windows
down upon the courtyard below where the sentries were pacing. The palace
was for him a gilded prison, for he dared not go out for a drive in one
or other of the parks or for a blow on the water across to Hogholmen or
Dagero, being compelled to remain there for months without showing
himself publicly. People in Abo had told me that when he did go out into
the streets of Helsingfors it was at night, and he usually disguised
himself in the uniform of a private soldier of the guard, thus escaping
recognition by those who, driven to desperation by injustice, sought his
life.
A long silence had fallen between us, and it now occurred to me to take
advantage of his hesitation. Therefore I said in a firm voice, in
French--
"I think, Baron, our interview is at an end, is it not? Therefore I wish
you good-day."
He turned upon me suddenly with an evil flash in his dark eyes, and a
snarling imprecation in Russian upon his lips. His hand still held the
order committing me to the fortress.
"But before I leave you will destroy that document. It may fall into
other hands, you know," and I walked towards him with quick
determination.
"I shall do nothing of the kind!" he snapped.
Without further word I snatched the paper from his thin white fingers
and tore it up before his face. His countenance went livid. I do not
think I have ever seen a man's face assume such an expression of
fiendish vindictiveness. It was as though at that instant hell had been
let loose within his heart.
But I turned upon my heel and went out, passing the sentries in the
ante-room, along the flower-filled corridors and across the courtyard to
the main entrance where the gorgeous concierge saluted me as I stepped
forth into the square.
I had escaped by means of my own diplomacy and firmness. The Czar's
representative--the man who ruled that country--feared me, and for that
reason did not hold me prisoner. Yet when I recalled that evil look of
revenge on my departure, I could not help certain feelings of grave
apprehension arising within me.
Returning to my hotel, I smoked a cigar in my room and pondered. Where
was Elma? was the chief question which arose within my mind. By
remaining in Helsingfors I could achieve nothing further, now that I had
made the acquaintance of the oppressor, whereas if I returned to Abo I
might perchance be able to obtain some clue to my love's whereabouts. I
call her my love because I both pitied and loved the poor afflicted girl
who was so helpless and defenseless.
Therefore I took the midnight train back to Abo, arriving at the hotel
next morning. After an hour's rest I set out anxiously in search of
Felix, the drosky-driver. I found him in his log-built house in the
Ludno quarter, and when he asked me in I saw, from his face, that he had
news to impart.
"Well?" I inquired. "And what of the lady? Has she been found?"
"Ah! your Excellency. It is a pity you were not here yesterday," he said
with a sigh.
"Why? Tell me quickly. What has happened?"
"I have been assisting the police as spy, Excellency, as I often do, and
I have seen her."
"Seen her! Where?" I cried in quick anxiety.
"Here, in Abo. She arrived yesterday morning from Tammerfors accompanied
by an Englishman. She had changed her dress, and was all in black. They
lunched together at the Restaurant du Nord opposite the landing stage,
and an hour later left by steamer for Petersburg."
"An Englishman!" I cried. "Did you not inform the Chief of Police,
Boranski?"
"Yes, your Excellency. But he said that their passports being in order
it was better to allow the lady to proceed. To delay her might mean her
rearrest in Finland," he added.
"Then their passports were viséd here on embarking?" I exclaimed. "What
was the name upon that of the Englishman?"
"I have it here written down, Excellency. I cannot pronounce your
difficult English names." And he produced a scrap of dirty paper whereon
was written in a Russian hand the name--
"Martin Woodroffe."
CHAPTER XIII
A DOUBLE GAME AND ITS CONSEQUENCES
I went to the railway station, and from the time-table gathered that if
I left Abo by rail at noon I could be in Petersburg an hour before noon
on the morrow, or about four hours before the arrival of the steamer by
which the silent girl and her companion were passengers. This I decided
upon doing, but before leaving I paid a visit to my friend, Boranski,
who, to my surprise and delight, handed me my wallet with the Czar's
letter intact, saying that it had been found upon a German thief who had
been arrested at the harbor on the previous night. The fellow had, no
doubt, stolen it from my pocket believing I carried my paper money in
the flap.
"The affair of the English lady is a most extraordinary one," remarked
the Chief of Police, toying with his pen as he sat at his big table.
"She seems to have met this Englishman up at Tammerfors, or at some
place further north, yet it is curious that her passport should be in
order even though she fled so precipitately from Kajana. There is a
mystery connected with her disappearance from the wood-cutter's hut that
I confess I cannot fathom."
"Neither can I," I said. "I know the man who is with her, and cannot
help fearing that he is her bitterest enemy--that he is acting in
concert with the Baron."
"Then why is he taking her to the capital--beyond the jurisdiction of
the Governor-General?"
"I am going straight to Petersburg to ascertain," I said. "I have only
come to thank you for your kindness in this matter. Truth to tell, I
have been somewhat surprised that you should have interested yourself on
my behalf," I added, looking straight at the uniformed official.
"It was not on yours, but on hers," he answered, somewhat enigmatically.
"I know something of the affair, but it was my duty as a man to help the
poor girl to escape from that terrible place. She has, I know, been
unjustly condemned for the attempted assassination of the wife of a
General--condemned with a purpose, of course. Such a thing is not
unusual in Finland."
"Abominable!" I cried. "Oberg is a veritable fiend."
But the man only shrugged his shoulders, saying--
"The orders of his Excellency the Governor-General have to be obeyed,
whatever they are. We often regret, but we dare not refuse to carry them
out."
"Russian rule is a disgrace to our modern civilization," I declared
hotly. "I have every sympathy with those who are fighting for freedom."
"Ah, you are not alone in that," he sighed, speaking in a low whisper,
and glancing around. "His Majesty would order reforms and ameliorate the
condition of his people, if only it were possible. But he, like his
officials, are powerless. Here we speak of the great uprising with bated
breath, but we, alas! know that it must come one day--very soon--and
Finland will be the first to endeavor to break her bonds--and the Baron
Oberg the first to fall."
For nearly an hour I sat with him, surprised to find how, although his
exterior was so harsh and uncouth, yet his heart really bled for the
poor starving people he was so constantly forced to oppress.
"I have ruined this town of Abo," he declared, quite frankly. "To my
own knowledge five hundred innocent persons have gone to prison, and
another two hundred have been exiled to Siberia. Yet what I have done is
only at direct orders from Helsingfors--orders that are stern, pitiless
and unjust. Men have been torn from their families and sent to the
mines, women have been arrested for no offense and shipped off to
Saghalien, and mere children have been cast into prison on charges of
political conspiracy with their elders--in order to Russify the
province! Only," he added anxiously, "I trust you will never repeat what
I tell you. You have asked me why I assisted the English Mademoiselle to
escape from Kajana, and I have explained the reason."
We ate a hearty meal in company at the _Sampalinna_, a restaurant built
like a Swiss châlet, and at noon I entered the train on the first stage
of my slow, tedious journey through the great silent forests and along
the shores of the lakes of Southern Finland, by way of Tavestehus and
Viborg, to Petersburg.
I was alone in the compartment, and sat moodily watching the panorama of
wood and river as we slowly wound up the tortuous ascents and descended
the steep gradients. I had not even a newspaper with which to while away
the time, only my own apprehensive thoughts of whither my helpless love
was being conducted.
Surely to no man was there ever presented such a complicated problem as
that which I was now trying so vigorously to solve. I loved Elma Heath.
The more I reflected, the deeper did her sweet countenance and tender
grace impress themselves upon my heart. I loved her, therefore I was
striving to overtake her.
The steamer, I learned, would call at Hango and Helsingfors. Would they,
I wonder, disembark at either of those places? Was the man whom I had
known as Hornby, the owner of the _Lola_, taking her to place her again
in the fiendish hands of Xavier Oberg? The very thought of it caused me
to hold my breath.
Daylight came at last, cold and gray, over those dreary interminable
marshes where game, especially snipe, seemed abundant, and at a small
station at the head of a lake called Davidstadt I took my morning glass
of tea; then we resumed our journey down to Viborg, where a short,
thick-set Russian of the commercial class, but something of a dandy,
entered my compartment, and we left express for Petersburg.
We had passed by a small station called Galitsina, near which were many
villas occupied in summer by families from Petersburg, and were
traveling through the dense gloomy pine-woods, when my fellow-traveler,
having asked permission to smoke, commenced to chat affably. He seemed a
pleasant fellow, and told me that he was a wool merchant, and that he
had been having a pleasant vacation trout fishing in the Vuoski above
the falls of the Imatra, where the pools between the rapids abound with
fish.
He had told me that on account of the shore being so full of weeds and
the clearness of the water, fishing from the banks was almost an
impossibility, and how they had to accustom themselves to troll from a
boat so small as to only accommodate the rower and the fisherman.
Then he remarked suddenly--
"You are English, I presume--possibly from Helsingfors?"
"No," I answered. "From Abo. I crossed from Stockholm, and am going to
Petersburg."
"And I also. I live in Petersburg," he added. "We may perhaps meet one
day. Do you know the capital?"
I explained that I had visited it once before, and had done the usual
round of sight-seeing. His manner was brisk and to the point, as became
a man of business, but when we stopped at Bele-Ostrof, on the opposite
side of the small winding river that separates Finland from Russia
proper, the Customs officer who came to examine our baggage exchanged a
curious meaning look with him.
My fellow-traveler believed that I had not observed, yet, keenly on the
alert as I now was, I was shrewd to detect the least sign or look, and I
at once resolved to tell the fellow nothing further of my own affairs.
He was, no doubt, a spy of "The Strangler's," who had followed me all
the way from Abo, and had only entered my carriage for the final stage
of the journey.
This revelation caused me some uneasiness, for even though I was able to
evade the man on arrival in Petersburg, he could no doubt quickly obtain
news of my whereabouts from the police to whom my passport must be sent.
I pretended to doze, and lay back with my eyes half-closed watching him.