By Right of Sword Part 41

"How long are you going to keep up these riddles, Prince? I don't pretend to be your equal at that kind of fence, and as it's perfectly evident to me you think you have a knotted whip for my back I'll wait till you're ready to lay it on."

He laughed at that.

"Are you going to accept my conditions?" he asked.

"It will depend absolutely on the result of this interview."

He paused half a minute and then taking a paper from his pocket tossed it to me with a laugh.

"Here's the key. How do you read it?" he asked, lightly.

It was indeed the key, and the instant my eyes fell on it I saw everything.

It was the permit found on Olga.

The game was up; but I wouldn't play the craven.

I tossed it back to him and laughed, a more natural and mirthful laugh than his, though I scented death in the air.

"I understand it pretty well," I said, as lightly as he had spoken.

"But if you don't mind I think I'll keep my own counsel."

"You know what it means?" he asked.

"To me?" He nodded. "I can guess," I said.

"And to her?"

"No, I don't know that. But I know your law is d.a.m.ned hard on women."

"And this Tueski woman--why did she get this permit for--your sister?"

He paused on the word.

"Wanted her out of the way, that's all."

"Is what she says true--all true?"

"That depends on what she says."

"It's a strange tale. That you're not what you call yourself; that you've taken the place of Lieutenant Alexis Petrovitch; that you're a Nihilist of the Nihilists; that you murdered her husband; and that she has the proofs of all this."

"Why did you arrest her?" I asked, as an idea occurred to me.

"That," he said, pointing to the permit.

"Did she volunteer her statement?"

A laugh of diabolical cunning spread over his face.

"Yes--when she believed you had deceived her and had fled with--your sister. Boy, no one can guard himself against a jealous Russian woman."

"Now, I see a little more clearly. But why did you arrest Olga Petrovitch?"

"Your visit to my sister this afternoon. You were too solicitous for the poor girl's nerves, and we thought it might be better for you to know that she was in safe guardianship until you had made your decision. There would at any rate be no pressing need for you to think of her leaving the country; or feel it desirable to go with her to take care of her in her shattered condition. And we were right. But even I did not expect a t.i.the of all that has come from the step. It is indeed seldom that I get so genuine a surprise."

"And what are you going to do--now?"

"How much of this woman's tale is true?"

"One third of it. I am not Alexis Petrovitch; but neither am I a Nihilist, nor a murderer."

"Who are you!"

"An Englishman--Hamylton Tregethner."

"But your speech--your accent--your Russian?"

"I was brought up in Moscow for the first sixteen years of my life."

"Tregethner, Hamylton Tregethner," he murmured, repeating the name as if it were not wholly unfamiliar to him. Then after a pause he asked me where the real Lieutenant Petrovitch was; and questioned me searchingly and very shrewdly as to the whole details of my change of ident.i.ty. I concealed nothing.

"You English are devils," he said, when his questions were nearly exhausted. "I hate the lot of you--except you. And you're as big a devil as any of them. But you have the pluck of a hundred."

I shrugged my shoulders, laughed, lolled back in my chair and lighted a cigarette.

"I've enjoyed it," I said, "and that's the plain truth. I didn't like the lies I had to tell; but then I never had any training in the diplomatic service, and that makes the difference. But all the same I've enjoyed it; and what's more, if it had been possible, I'd have fought for the Little Father as keenly as any born Russ in the ranks.

But it's over, and so far as I'm concerned, you can do what you like with me. I should like to save that girl. She's one in ten thousand for pluck. And you owe her something too, as she saved my life from a treacherous thrust of Devinsky's sword for you to take it. You might let her have her liberty in its place. It's infernally hard on the girl that her cowardly brute of a brother should let her in for all this mess; and then that I, with all the good will in the world, should thrust her deeper into the mud. It's d.a.m.ned hard!"

The Prince was watching me closely and thinking hard.

"Why did you hesitate to accept my proposal?" he asked, sharply.

"For a very plain reason. While I appreciated the honour and advantage of an alliance with your sister, I loved Olga Petrovitch, and preferred to marry her."

"I won't tell my sister that," he said, laughing sardonically. After a pause he added:--"How much does--your sister know of our matter?"

"Everything."

"Names?" and he stared as if to penetrate right into my brain.

"No--not of the man to be fought."

"On your honour?"

"On my honour."

"If she is released, will you go on with it?"

"If she is put across the frontier," I returned grimly.