Under the Red Dragon: A Novel
obliged to meet any one who is amenable to the laws of war, and is in
a position so dubious as yours."
I was choking with rage; yet a conviction that he spoke with something
of warrant, so far as appearances went, and of the absolute necessity
for acting with policy, if I would leave myself a chance of winning
Valerie and escape greater perils than any I had encountered,
compelled me to assume a calmness of bearing I was far from feeling.
"Seek neither to threaten nor to trifle with me," said he, loftily and
grimly; "you may certainly know the common laws of war regarding the
retention of prisoners and the punishment of spies, but you know not
those of Russia. If I do not treat you as one of the latter, it is
because Volhonski is your friend; but I have it in my power, in
treating you as one of the former, to have you transmitted farther
than the Ukraine--to where you should never be heard of more. We are
not particular to a shade here," he continued, with a sneering smile;
"when the Emperor commanded a certain offender to be taken and
punished, the minister of police could not find the right individual.
What the deuce was to be done? Justice could not remain unsatisfied;
so, instead, he seized a poor German, who had just arrived and was
known to none. He slit his tongue, tore out his nostrils, sent him to
Siberia to hunt the ermine, and reported to the Czar that his orders
had been obeyed. So don't flatter yourself that any persons in office
among us would be very particular in analysing _any report_ that I may
transmit with you, a mere English captain!"
And rising from the table with these ominous words, he bowed to the
_eikon_, crossed himself after the Greek fashion, inserted a
_papirosse_ into his dense moustache, and limped away, leaving me in a
very unenviable frame of mind. Already I saw Valerie lost to me! I
beheld myself, in fancy, marched into the interior of Russia under
armed escort, maltreated and degraded, with my hands tied to the mane
of a Cossack pony, or a foot chained to a six-pound shot; a secret
report transmitted with me--a tissue of malevolent lies--to be acted
upon by some irresponsible official with a crackjaw name; to be never
more heard of, my sufferings and my ultimate fate to be--God alone
knew what!
I was weak enough to feel jealous of this ungainly Tolstoff--this
Muscovite Caliban--in addition to being seriously alarmed by his
threats, and enraged by his tone and bearing. Had Valerie ever viewed
him with favour? The idea was too absurd! If not, what right had _he_
to advise me concerning her? But then she was so beautiful, one could
not wonder that he--coarse though he was--might love her in secret.
Full of these and other thoughts that were vague and bitter, I quitted
the table just as Yourivitch was lighting the lamps, and wandered into
the long and now gloomy picture-gallery, one of the great windows of
which was open. Beyond it was a terrace, whereon I saw the figure of
Valerie. She was alone, and in defiance of all prudence and the
warning of Tolstoff, I followed her.
CHAPTER XLIX.--BETROTHED.
She seemed absorbed in thought as I drew near her, and did not
perceive my approach. She was leaning on the carved balustrade of the
terrace, and gazing at the sea and the scenery that lay below it,
steeped in the brilliance of a clear and frosty moonlight. The snow
had entirely departed from the vicinity of Yalta, though its white
mantle still covered all the peaks of the Yaila range of mountains.
About a mile distant on one side lay the town, its glaring
white-walled houses gleaming coldly in the moonshine. A beach was
there, with most civilised-looking bathing-machines upon it; for prior
to the war, Yalta had been the fashionable watering-place for the
ladies of Sebastopol, Bagtcheserai, and Odessa, who were wont there to
disport themselves in fantastic costumes, and take headers in the
Euxinus Pontus. On the other side were lovely valleys and hills,
covered with timber--pine-groves dark and huge as those that overhang
the fjords of Norway.
In the distance lay the Black Sea--so called from the dark fogs that
so often cover it--sleeping in silver light, its waves in shining
ripples rolling far away round the points of Orianda and Maragatsch;
and Valerie, absorbed in thought, and her dark eyes fixed apparently
on that point where the starry horizon met the distant sea.
She wore an ample jacket or pelisse of snow-white ermine lined with
rose-coloured silk, and clasped at the tender throat by a brooch which
was a cluster of bright amethysts. A kind of loose silken hood, such
as ladies when in full dress may wear in a carriage, was hastily
thrown over the masses of her golden hair, which formed a kind of soft
framework for her delicately-cut and warmly-tinted face, for the cold
air had brought an unwonted colour into her usually pale complexion.
Her eyes wore an expression of languor and anxiety. Heaven knows what
the girl was thinking of; but as she watched the shining sea I could
see her full pink nervous lips curling and quivering, as if with the
thoughts that ran through her impulsive mind. And this bright creature
might be mine! I had but to ask her, perhaps, and I had not so faint a
heart as to lose one so fair for the mere dread of asking her. Yet, as
I drew near, the reflection flashed upon my mind that for three days
at least she had purposely avoided me. Why was this? Had my love for
her been too apparent to others? had I underdone or overdone anything?
what had I omitted, or how committed myself?
"Valerie!" said I, softly.
She uttered a slight exclamation, as if startled, and then placing her
firm, cool, and velvet-like hands confidingly in mine, glanced
nervously round her, and more particularly up at the windows of the
house.
"I would speak with you," said she, in a half whisper.
"And I with you, Valerie. O, how I have longed for a moment such as
this, when I might again be with you alone!"
"But we must not be seen together; and I have but that moment you have
so wished for to spare. Come this way--this way, quick; those
cypresses in the tubs will shield us from any curious eyes that may
lurk at yonder windows."
"O, Valerie!" I sighed with happiness, and as I passed a hand
caressingly over her jacket of ermine I thought vengefully of
Tolstoft's dark hint about hunting that small quadruped in Siberia;
and then as I gazed tenderly into her dark and glittering eyes, I
could perceive that their long tremulous lashes were matted.
"Tears--why tears, Valerie?"
She spoke hurriedly. "I have most earnestly to apologise to you for
much that I heard the Pulkovnick say during dinner; it was indeed
horrid--all!"
"Much that you have not heard was more horrid still."
"It is unbearable! His wounds or bruises must have exasperated his
temper. Yet I cannot speak to him of that which I did not hear, as to
do so would appear too much as if you and I had some secret
confidences, and Madame Tolstoff, I fear, has hinted at something of
this kind already."
"I asked you to marry me, dearest Valerie."
"Yes--vainly," said she, with a half-smile on her partly-averted face.
"Vainly--why?"
"Do not press me to say why."
"Could you love me, Valerie?"
"I might."
"Might, Valerie?" (I was never weary of repeating her sweet name; and
what meant this admission, if she declined me?) "You do not doubt my
love for you?" I urged.
"No, though I fear it is but a passing fancy, born of idleness and the
ennui of Yalta."
"Think you, Valerie, that any man could see, and only love you thus? O
no, no! But say that you will be mine--that you will come with me to
England, where your brother is, or soon shall be--to England, where
women are treated with a courtesy and tenderness all unknown in
Russia, and where the girl a man loves is indeed as an empress to him,
and has his fate in life in her own hands."
"I don't quite understand all this--nor should I listen to it," said
she, looking me fully in the face, with calm confidence and something
of sadness; too.
Her right hand was still clasped in mine, and as I pressed it against
my heart, I placed my left arm round her waist, modestly, tenderly,
and with a somewhat faltering manner; for she looked so stately, and
in her white ermine seemed taller and more ample than usual, a beauty
on a large scale and with "a presence." But starting back, she quickly
freed herself from my half-embrace, and said, "Captain Hardinge, you
forget yourself!"
"Can it be that you receive my tenderness thus?" said I,
reproachfully, and feeling alike disappointed and crestfallen. "I love
you most dearly, Valerie, and implore you to tell me of my future, for
on your answer depends my happiness or misery."
"I hope that I am the holder of neither. I did not ask you to love me;
and O, I would to Heaven that you had never come to Yalta--that we had
never, never met!"
"Why--O, why?" I asked, imploringly.
"Because I am on the very eve of being _married_."
"Married!" I repeated, breathlessly; and then added passionately and
hoarsely, "To whom?"
"Colonel Tolstoff, to whom I was betrothed in form by the Bishop of
Odessa."
Her refusal was really a double-shotted one, and for a moment I was
stupefied. Then I said, in a voice I could scarcely have recognised as
my own,
"It was to this tie, and not to a convent, that Volhonski alluded,
when hinting that you were set apart from the world?"
"Yes. I thank you from my soul for the love you offer me, though it
fills me with distress. I pity you; but can do no more. Alas! you have
been here only too long."
"Too long, indeed!" said I, sadly, while bending my lips to her hand;
and then hurrying into the house by the picture-gallery, she left
me--left me to my own miserable and crushing thoughts, with the
additional mortification of knowing that Madame Tolstoff, watchful as
a lynx, had overseen and overheard our interview from another angle of
the terrace, though she could not understand its nature; but of course
she suspected much, and was all aflame for the interests of her suave
and amiable son.
However, this was not to be my last moment of tenderness with Valerie.
But I was left little time for reflection, as events were now to
succeed each other with a degree of speed and brevity equalled only by
the transitions and discoveries of a drama on the stage.
CHAPTER L.--CAUGHT AT LAST.
I re-entered the château feeling sad, irresolute, and crushed in
spirit. I had lost that on which I had set my heart, and at the hands
of Tolstoff, my rival, I might yet lose more, if his threats meant
anything--liberty, perhaps life itself.
What, then, was to be done? I was without money, without arms, or a
horse. All these Valerie might procure for me; but how or where was I
to address her again? After the result of our last interview she would
be certain to avoid me more sedulously than ever. As I passed through
the magnificent vestibule, which was hung with rose-coloured lamps,
the light of which fell softly on the green malachite pedestals and
white marble Venuses, Dianas, and Psyches, which had no part of them
dressed but their hair, which was done to perfection, I met Ivan
Yourivitch, who made me understand that the officer whom the
Pulkovnick expected with certain papers from Sebastopol had arrived,
and was now in the dining-room; but the Pulkovnick had smoked himself
off to sleep, and must not, under certain pains and penalties, be
disturbed. Would I see him? And so, before I knew what to say, or had
made up my mind whether to avoid or meet the visitor, I was ushered
into the stately room, when I found myself once more face to face with
Mr. Hawkesby Guilfoyle!
The ex-cornet of wagoners was clad now in the gray Russian military