By Right of Sword Part 36

"I don't echo our aunt's words, that you are cold and feelingless, Olga--she is not that, Aunt Palitzin. But I do find that as a sister she places a strong reserve on her feelings."

"To hear you speak," said Olga, laughing lightly, "one might think I had two characters: in one of which I was all warmth and affection; in the other all coldness and reserve."

"And I believe that would be about right, child," said the Countess.

"For when the boy is not here your tongue never tires of praising him; and yet the moment he comes, he might be a stranger instead of your own nearest and dearest."

Olga blushed crimson at this.

"Brothers have to be treated judiciously," she said.

"'Judiciously,' Olga. Why, what on earth do you mean? How could you love a brave fellow like Alexis injudiciously?"

"Love is often best when it is most injudicious," said I, sententiously, coming to Olga's rescue; but she betrayed me shamefully.

Looking innocently at me she asked:--

"Would you like us to be a pair of injudicious lovers, then, Alexis?"

"If I never shew more lack of judgment than in my love for you, I shall get well through life, Olga," I retorted.

"You are certainly a most unusual brother, I can tell you," she said, smiling slily.

"If every brother had such a sister, the tie that binds us two would be a much more usual one," I answered.

"You are incorrigible," she laughed and turned away.

"I am glad you speak so seriously, Alexis," said my aunt. "I'll be no party to any deception. She does love you, boy, however much she may try to hide it when you are here;" and with this, which set us both laughing again, the old lady went away.

"Does she?" I asked; and the question brought Olga with a happy look into my arms.

But I had not come to make love, sweet though it was to have the girl's arms about me; and as soon as I could, I began in talk seriously about the position.

In the first place I told her everything that had happened; and there was one thing that amused her, despite the tremendously critical state of our affairs. It was about the great suitor the Prince had promised for her.

"What, another?" she said, with a comical crinkling of her forehead.

"Upon my word what with brothers and lovers, I am sorely plagued. This makes the..." she stopped.

"How many?"

"I don't think I know. Either two or three, according as we reckon you. While you're my brother, two I suppose. Otherwise three."

"'Otherwise' is a good deal shaky, I'm afraid," said I, shaking my head. "And I begin to question whether he'll ever count."

"He may not; but in that case no other ever will," returned Olga earnestly. "Did you say that on purpose to get another a.s.surance from me?"

"No, indeed. I only spoke out of the reality of my doubts;" and then we went on threshing the thing out.

"There is but one possible chance," said I, after I had told her all.

"It's a remote one, perhaps, but such as it is, we must use it. You must go...."

"I won't leave Moscow unless you go," she broke in. "I wouldn't have done it before when you wanted, but now...." she paused and blushed and her eyes brightened--"wild horses shan't tear me away."

"There are stronger things than wild horses, child; and I shall appeal to one in your case. You must go in order to try and get me out of the muddle here."

"Yes, I'll go for that, if it's necessary," she declared as readily as a moment before she had declined.

"It is necessary. Shortly, my idea is this. We can't get away together at the same time. We are shut in here in the very centre of Russia; and if we left together we could not hope to reach the frontier for many hours after we had been missed from here; while if we were missed only ten minutes before we got to the barrier, it would be long enough for us to be stopped. Besides, there are ten thousand things that come in the way. But that doesn't apply to your travelling alone; and if I can get a pa.s.sport or a permit for you, I believe you will be able to get across the frontier before anyone has an idea that you have even left the city. In my case that would be impossible. There are three separate sets of lynx eyes on me. The Prince's police--the most vigilant of all; the Nihilists--the most dangerous; and Paula Tueski's--the most vengeful. I shall have the most difficult task to evade them, and I believe it will be only possible, if at all, by a sort of double cunning. But there is one way you can help."

"What is that?" asked Olga, whose interest was breathless.

"I have a friend, Balestier; you've heard of him--the Hon. Rupert Balestier. He saw your brother in Paris and believes that some devilment is on foot. If you can find him and tell him all that has happened and the mess that things are in, I believe, in fact I know, that he would exhaust every possible means of helping me. It is possible that our Foreign Office might be moved by the influence he could bring to bear; and I know that in such a task he'd stir up every friend and relative he has in the world. My plan is simply this. You must go with all possible speed to Paris: find him, tell him all, and get him to do what he thinks best and use what efforts he can. In the meantime if I can't escape I shall either have to feign consent with this wretched duel and marriage business and wait on events: or if I get a chance of leaving, slip off in an altogether different direction."

"It is a terrible trouble I have brought you to, Alexis," said the girl sadly.

"I would pay a far bigger price for this trouble," I answered, taking her hand and kissing it. "And when we are once out of this too hospitable land of yours, we shall laugh at it all together."

"Yes, when?" she said; and her tone suggested a hopelessness which responded only too well with that which I felt secretly.

While we were together, however, it was impossible for us to feel downcast for long. There was such infinite pleasure in mere companionship, that the grim troubles which surrounded us were shut out of our thoughts. The present was so bright that it seemed impossible the gloom could soon close in on us.

But when I had left her and was alone in my rooms, I was gloomy enough; and my spirits were certainly not raised when my new servant ushered in Paula Tueski.

"You would not come to me, Alexis, so I have to come to you," was her greeting. "You neglect me. I suppose because of the great friends you have made."

"Great friends?" For the moment not understanding her.

"Yes. I hear that you are finding great pleasure in the society of a certain great lady."

"Oh, you mean the Princess Weletsky?" I laughed as I spoke.

"It does not make me laugh," she said, frowning.

"You are in mourning, and laughter sounds ill with tears," I returned.

I hated the woman worse every time I saw her.

"If I am in mourning it is you who are the cause," she cried, stamping her foot, angrily. "I want to know what this new--new friendship, shall I call it?--means."

"You may call it what you like. The Princess is nothing to me," said I, thinking more of my affections than of the facts.

"And never will be?" said my companion abruptly.

"And never will be, I hope," I agreed, with the accents of unmistakable sincerity.

But my visitor was suspicious and did not believe me. She got up and came close to me, and stared hard into my eyes as if searching there for the truth.

"Then why are you so cold to me? Not a kindly word, not a gesture, not a glance that you mightn't have thrown to the veriest beggar in the street have you given me. You, who used always to brighten when I came near you. I have seen your eyes light up a hundred times, Alexis, when you have let them rest on me, praising, pleasing, and loving me. And now you are as cold as a tombstone. Will you swear to me you have no love for this other woman--this Princess?"

"Most certainly I will."