The International Spy Part 39

"I told you. I want to have a talk with you about our plans."

"The plan is all right. But I want to know when we're to sail."

"I'm doing all I can. It's only a question of weeks now."

Va.s.sileffsky looked hard at me again, bent across the table, and whispered a word which I failed to understand.

Something in his face warned me that it was a pa.s.sword. I recovered myself from my momentary confusion and smiled.

"The word's changed," I said with an air of authority. "It's _North Sea_ and _Ca.n.a.l_."

The Russian seemed satisfied.

"Well," he said, stumbling to his feet, "if we're going on board we'd better go."

"Don't forget the magnums," I put in, as I rose in my turn.

The reckoning was settled, and the champagne ordered to follow us down to the boat.

Va.s.sileffsky nearly lost his footing as we got out into the fresh air, and caught hold of my arm.

"You'll have to lead me," he said, speaking thickly. "Straight along the street, and down the first turning on the quay."

We walked along, arm-in-arm, my companion appearing to become more helpless every minute.

As we emerged from the narrow lane which conducted us to the waterside, the lights of the harbor burst into view. There on the tide lay a long line of stately battleships, cruisers and dark, low-lying torpedo boats, their riding lights flashing and twinkling in a thousand reflections on the waves.

A drunken hail from the Captain was responded to by a respectful hail from a Russian petty officer, who was lounging at the head of some stone steps.

He came forward and a.s.sisted his commanding officer down and into the launch which waited below. I followed, and the bottles of champagne were handed in afterward.

Va.s.sileffsky seized the tiller with more energy than he had seemed capable of, and headed the launch for a great battleship, the _Beresina_.

In a few minutes we were alongside. A smart landing stage and ladder brought us up on to the deck, and as soon as our feet touched it, Captain Va.s.sileffsky, suddenly drawing himself up, said in distinct and sober tones,

"Consider yourself under arrest, if you please----"

I was a prisoner on board a Russian man-of-war!

CHAPTER XXVII

THE BALTIC FLEET

Fortunately I am accustomed to face emergencies without losing my presence of mind.

The manner of Va.s.sileffsky had prepared me for some display of suspicion on his part, though I hardly antic.i.p.ated his procedure would be so theatrical.

Fixing him with my sternest look, I responded,

"Captain Va.s.sileffsky, I do not think you quite understand what you are doing. I will talk to you in the morning, when you are more yourself."

He drew back, considerably disconcerted.

"Very well, I will listen to what you have to say in the morning. In the meantime you will be under a guard."

I shrugged my shoulders with a disdainful smile.

"Be good enough to let me see my quarters," I said.

More and more abashed, the Captain summoned one of his officers, and gave him some instructions.

"Follow me, sir," said the lieutenant. I walked after him with perfect self-possession.

"I do not wish to make a fuss to-night, as Captain Va.s.sileffsky is not himself," I said haughtily, as we drew out of hearing. "But you will understand that unless I receive an apology in the morning, I shall complain to his majesty the Czar, by whose orders I am here."

The lieutenant looked badly frightened.

"It is not my fault, as you can see, sir. I am only obeying orders.

Will you accept my own berth for the night, sir?"

I thanked him and entered a small, comfortably-fitted state-room.

With profuse apologies, he turned the key and left me to my own reflections.

I slept soundly, rocked by the tide of the Finland Gulf.

In the morning my jailer came to wake me.

"Captain Va.s.sileffsky presents his compliments, and asks you to breakfast with him in his cabin, in half an hour."

This message was a welcome proof to me that my bluff had produced the desired effect. I accepted the invitation as if it was a matter of course.

I dressed, and went to the cabin where Va.s.sileffsky awaited me.

"Are we friends or foes this morning?" I called out with a good-humored laugh, as I greeted him.

The Russian looked dull and nervous.

"I hope all will be well," he muttered. "Let us have something to eat before we talk."

He might have said, something to drink, for his own breakfast was mainly of champagne. I, myself, made a point of eating heartily, and drank only coffee.

"Now, Va.s.sileffsky," I said in authoritative tones, "to business.

First of all, you want some money."

It was a guess, but a fairly safe one. Without waiting for the astonished man to reply, I took out my pocket-book.