The Intriguers Part 30

The treacherous Madame Quero had come to the Palace, to seek whom, and to what purpose?

Rumour, gathered at the stage door, and in the more intimate circles of the profession, averred that the handsome singer was in love with Corsini. He had also his impressions of his sister in connection with the handsome young Italian. He had watched them together in that prolonged conversation on the night of the concert at the Zouroff Palace, on quitting which, Corsini had been abducted.

Rapidly in his own mind, he reconstructed the sequence of events.

Madame Quero was in love with Corsini. He gnashed his teeth as he remembered he had been fool enough to suggest to the Spanish woman that Corsini must disappear. She had acted on that hint and come straight to the Palace to invoke his sister's a.s.sistance in rescuing Corsini.

His sister was in love with Corsini herself. The two rivals had united to save their common lover, and their measures had been well taken.

The police had met the carriage at Pavlovsk, rescued the drugged and inanimate Director of the Imperial Opera, and brought him safely back to St. Petersburg. And, in the capital, so Zouroff was a.s.sured by his spies, he was being safely guarded by Beilski's men. The Government and the police were proving themselves very cunning, almost as cunning as Zouroff himself.

So far he had reasoned things out very logically. Now came the one thing for which he could not account. To La Quero he had given no details, and as he had not given them to her, she could not communicate them to his sister. Here was a final stop.

And yet, the carriage containing Corsini, drugged and bound, had been surrounded at Pavlovsk by the police. Somebody, then, had given information. Who was that somebody?

His suspicion fell at once on Fritz, the German, chiefly, perhaps, because Fritz had been found guilty of minor acts of disloyalty in previous transactions. For a man of his acute intelligence, it was, perhaps, a little surprising that he did not, at first hand, suspect Peter.

But Peter had just disarmed his suspicions by handing to him Madame Quero's card. Yes, Peter was loyal, if every other person was tainted with treachery.

There emerged from his strenuous efforts to get at the truth some clear and certain facts, according to his own deductions, which were, of course, erroneous.

Madame Quero had been informed by Fritz of the actual facts: that Corsini was to be kidnapped just outside the precincts of the Palace, that the carriage was to stop on its first stage on the Moscow road at Pavlovsk.

He had to admit that there were flaws in his reasoning. If Madame Quero had got this information from Fritz, and she was resolved to save Corsini, she could have informed the police herself. Why had she come to the Palace, to invoke the a.s.sistance of Nada?

Pending his cogitations, he had recourse to stimulants, as was his wont on such occasions. Amid the fumes of alcohol he solved the problem, as he thought. Quero, not wishing to appear herself, had made his sister her instrument. He ground his teeth, and vowed implacable revenge upon his once sweetheart, La Belle Quero.

But his anger against his sister was hardly less burning. To think that this innocent young girl, only just out of the schoolroom, should dare to thwart his plans.

He burst into her sitting-room, his face red and inflamed from his secret drinking. She recognised the symptoms at once. He had one of his wild fits of brutal and unreasoning rage.

He attacked her at once, in unmeasured language.

"You are a disgrace to your s.e.x," he shouted wildly, "a disgrace to the n.o.ble house of Zouroff, to the name you bear."

The young Princess looked at him calmly and steadfastly, with her clear gaze. He was a wild beast at the moment--she saw that; also gathered that he had been drinking heavily. Wild beasts are sometimes tamed by the eye. She never took her glance off him.

"Of what do you accuse me?" she asked in cold and cutting accents. "In what way have I, of all the members of our family, disgraced the house of Zouroff?"

The Prince spluttered forth his accusations. "You have disgraced yourself by falling in love with a strolling player, that mountebank, Corsini."

Of course he was still master enough of himself not to reveal all he knew, or thought he knew.

The Princess drew herself up haughtily. It was not the first time she had encountered her brother in this mood.

"I don't think you know what you are talking about, Boris; I can see your condition very plainly. Signor Corsini is not a strolling player--that description applies to the dest.i.tute members of the theatrical profession. Corsini is a musician, an artist, and the Director of the Imperial Opera. Think of some other expression that will vent your rage and spite, but don't call him 'a strolling player.'"

"But whatever he is, you love him," thundered the Prince, now fairly consumed with rage.

The young Princess kept her temper, her tone was as cutting as before.

"You insult me with these questions," she said calmly. "Return to me when you are sober and I may perhaps be able to talk with you, reason with you." She was thinking of a few hints dropped by General Beilski on his brief visit to her.

"And if I do not choose to leave at your bidding," retorted the Prince, in a jeering tone. "Suppose I insist upon remaining and finishing our conversation!"

"In that case I shall leave the Palace for good." And suddenly her woman's strength gave way, opposed to that of this resolute ruffian and bully. "If our dear mother were here, you would not dare to stay in this room a moment longer. You take advantage of my weakness," she cried tearfully.

"Our dear mother," mimicked Zouroff, in mocking accents. "You and your mother have always held together against me; you always held against my dear father in the old days."

"Of whom you are a worthy son," flashed the Princess, with an angry gesture. She had poignant memories of those old days, when her mother had suffered untold indignities at the hands of Prince Zouroff the elder, indignities which had bitten into the souls of both wife and daughter. Boris was the only member of the family who reverenced the name of his father, for the very simple reason that he partook of his worst qualities.

And then a softer mood came to her. After all, he was her brother, son of the same kind, gentle mother. She went across to him and placed a hand upon his shoulder.

"Be reasonable, Boris, and prudent. I can guess more than you think. I am sure you are playing a very dangerous game. Be certain on your side that your opponents are not stronger than you."

But Zouroff was in no mood to listen to the tender expostulations of a woman, especially a woman whom he despised as much as his sister, this frail girl who took after her gentle mother, who had in her none of the iron qualities of his brutal father.

He flung her aside, and spoke in a grating voice.

"You will leave the Palace, will you? Yes, you shall, but when and how I choose. There is your own little comfortable Castle of Tchernoff.

Perhaps if I sent you there, it might cool your hot blood."

The Princess flamed up. "You dare not think of such a thing. Brute as you are, you would not dare to do it."

"We shall see. Remember I am still your legal guardian," cried the Prince, with a mocking laugh, as he left the room.

The interview had sobered him. All that was now working in his mind was, first, a scheme of revenge upon La Belle Quero; second, a milder scheme of revenge against his sister.

An hour later Peter, the valet, reported himself to General Beilski and obtained his free pardon by a full confession. And the General, waiting for further developments, stayed his hand for the moment.

CHAPTER XXI

Needless to say that Nada was very much alarmed by the threat which her brother had flung at her when she spoke of leaving the Palace.

She tried to reason herself into the belief that her fears were groundless. In their not infrequent quarrels he had more than once threatened to lock her up in that gloomy castle in order to bring her to her senses.

But nothing had ever come of it. He was hotheaded and overbearing, but she did not believe him to be vindictive. Of course, in forming this lenient estimate of a character not to be very easily fathomed, she was grievously mistaken.

To-day he was in one of his blind rages, and he had, moreover, been drinking. At such times he was not always responsible for either his words or actions. In a few hours he would be his normal self, and his senseless anger would have died down.

Still, she wished that she could take counsel with somebody. She could not go to her mother. The Princess's cold had been the precursor of an acute attack of diphtheria of such an infectious nature that her chamber was barred to everybody except the nurse and doctor.

Relatives, of course, Nada had in abundance, but she shrank from exposing her brother to these. He was unpopular enough with his family as it was.

She could, of course, send round a note to Beilski, informing him of her brother's threat and claiming his protection; but, from the few hints the General had dropped, she could see that he was already sufficiently inflamed against Zouroff. She did not wish to increase that resentment, unless it were absolutely necessary.

But still she felt imperatively the desire to confide, in somebody to have disinterested counsel as to the course she should pursue.