The International Spy Part 12

"Infamous! The wretch! Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I promised the fellow not to. He was afraid of getting into trouble, and as he had only blundered out of zeal, I let him off."

"And he has left the train. Why, I wonder?"

"I ordered him to."

The Princess Y---- looked less and less pleased. A minute later, I caught her stealthily glancing in my direction, and realized that her keen wits were already at work, connecting my appearance on the scene with the disappearance of the inspector.

The next day, Colonel Menken and his betrothed took their seats at a different table in the restaurant of the train.

I saw the meaning of this maneuver. It was of course a test by which the Princess Y---- sought to learn if I was a spy, appointed to replace the inspector. I took care not to a.s.sist her by following them to the new table; on the contrary, I refused the offer of my brother waiter, who was honest enough not to wish to take my tips from me.

When we reached Irkutsk, I had another proof that the Princess was beginning to feel uneasy. Marie informed me that her mistress had ordered her to go into the town and send off a telegram, as she would not trust the railway officials.

The message, which my ally faithfully reported to me, was addressed to Petrovitch himself and ran as follows:

Received wire from you at Moscow reporting our friend ill, and telling me not to wire you again till my return. I now fear some mistake. All going well otherwise.

We were carried across the frozen Baikal amid a furious snowstorm.

Huddled up in thick furs, and fighting to keep our blood circulating under the leaden pressure of the cruel frost, there was no time to think of conspiracies.

But on resuming the journey on the other side of the lake, I saw that the cunning agent of the War Party was maturing some decisive attempt on the messenger of peace. The talks of the lovers became closer and more confidential, the manner of Colonel Menken grew daily more devoted and absorbed, and Marie described her mistress as laboring under an extraordinary excitement.

At last, on the very day the train crossed the Chinese frontier on the way to Mukden, Marie came to me with a decisive report.

"Sophy has won!" she declared. "I overheard them talking again last night. Ever since they left Tomsk they have been having a dispute, Sophy declaring that the Colonel did not love her, because he suspected her, and he, the stupid creature, swearing that he trusted her entirely. It appears she had got out of him that he was carrying a paper of some kind, and so she said that unless he gave her this paper to keep till they reached Dalny or Port Arthur, she would not believe in him, nor have anything more to say to him.

"In the end, she was too many for him. Last night he gave her the paper in a sealed envelope, and I saw her take it from her breast before she undressed last night."

"Where is it? What has she done with it?" I demanded anxiously.

"I can't tell you that. She had it in her hand when she dismissed me for the night. It looked to me as though she meant to break the seal and read it."

Full of the gravest forebodings, I hurried to the rear of the train, got out my inspector's uniform, though without effecting any change in my facial appearance, and made my way to the smoking-car.

Colonel Menken, who had just finished breakfast, was settling himself down to a cigar and an ill.u.s.trated magazine.

He gazed up at me in astonishment, as he perceived the change in my costume.

"So the Princess was right!" he exclaimed angrily. "You are another policeman."

I bowed.

"And charged, like the last, to protect me from my cousin and future wife!"

"From the person who has robbed you of the Czar's autograph letter to the Emperor of j.a.pan, yes!"

Menken recoiled, thunderstruck.

"You knew what I was carrying?"

"As well as I know the contents of the telegram which the Princess sent from Irkutsk to the head of the Manchurian Syndicate--the man who has sworn that the Czar's letter shall never be delivered."

Colonel Menken staggered to his feet, bewildered, angry, half induced to threaten, and half to yield.

"You must be lying! Sophy never left my sight while we were at Irkutsk!"

"We can discuss that later. Will you, or will you not, reclaim his majesty's letter--the letter entrusted to your honor?"

Menken turned white.

"I--I will approach the Princess," he stammered, obviously divided between fear of losing her, and dread of myself and any action I might take.

"That will not do for me," I said sternly. "I can only make you this offer: Come with me at once to this lady's sleeping berth and regain the despatch, and I will agree to say no more about it; refuse, and I shall report the whole affair to his majesty personally."

"Who are you?" inquired the dismayed man.

"That is of no consequence. You see my uniform--let that be enough for you."

He staggered down the car. I followed, and we reached the car where the Princess was at the moment engaged, with Marie's aid, in putting the last touches to her toilet.

She looked up at our appearance, gave an interrogative glance first at Menken and then, at me, and evidently made up her mind.

"What is it, gentlemen?"

"The--the paper I gave--that you offered to--that--in short, I want it immediately," faltered my companion.

"I have no paper of yours, and I do not know what you are talking about, my friend," said the Princess Y---- with the calmest air in the world.

Menken uttered a cry of despair.

"The letter, the letter I gave you last night--it was a letter from the Czar," he exclaimed feebly.

"I think you must have dreamed it," said the Princess with extreme composure. "Marie, have you seen any letter about?"

"No, your highness," returned the servant submissively.

"If you think there is anything here, you are welcome to look," her mistress added with a pleasant smile. "As for me, I never keep letters, my own or anybody else's. _I always tear them up._"

And with these words, and another smile and a nod, she stepped gracefully past us, and went to take her seat in the part of the train reserved for ladies.

Somewhere, doubtless, on the white Manchurian plain we had crossed in the night, the fragments of the imperial peacemaker's letter were being scattered by the wind.

Menken's face had changed utterly in the last minute. He resembled an elderly man.

"Tell the Czar that I alone am to blame," were his last words.

Before I could prevent him, he had drawn a revolver from his pocket, and put two bullets through his head.