LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

dare not invoke your English law, for perhaps in the eyes of that law I am a thief.”

      “Deary me, that’s a bad business,” said the startled Dickson.

      The two women talked together in some strange tongue, and the elder appeared to be pleading and the younger objecting. Then Saskia seemed to come to a decision.

      “I will tell you all,” and she looked straight at Heritage. “I do not think you would be cruel or false, for you have honourable faces… Listen, then. I am a Russian, and for two years have been an exile. I will not now speak of my house, for it is no more, or how I escaped, for it is the common tale of all of us. I have seen things more terrible than any dream and yet lived, but I have paid a price for such experience. First I went to Italy where there were friends, and I wished only to have peace among kindly people. About poverty I do not care, for, to us, who have lost all the great things, the want of bread is a little matter. But peace was forbidden me, for I learned that we Russians had to win back our fatherland again, and that the weakest must work in that cause. So I was set my task, and it was very hard … There were others still hidden in Russia which must be brought to a safe place. In that work I was ordered to share.”

      She spoke in almost perfect English, with a certain foreign precision. Suddenly she changed to French, and talked rapidly to Heritage.

      “She has told me about her family,” he said, turning to Dickson. “It is among the greatest in Russia, the very greatest after the throne.” Dickson could only stare.

      “Our enemies soon discovered me,” she went on. “Oh, but they are very clever, these enemies, and they have all the criminals of the world to aid them. Here you do not understand what they are. You good people in England think they are well-meaning dreamers who are forced into violence by the persecution of Western Europe. But you are wrong. Some honest fools there are among them, but the power—the true power—lies with madmen and degenerates, and they have for allies the special devil that dwells in each country. That is why they cast their nets as wide as mankind.”

      She shivered, and for a second her face wore a look which Dickson never forgot, the look of one who has looked over the edge of life into the outer dark.

      “There were certain jewels of great price which were about to be turned into guns and armies for our enemies. These our people recovered, and the charge of them was laid on me. Who would suspect, they said, a foolish girl? But our enemies were very clever, and soon the hunt was cried against me. They tried to rob me of them, but they failed, for I too had become clever. Then they asked for the help of the law—first in Italy and then in France. Ah, it was subtly done. Respectable bourgeois, who hated the Bolsheviki but had bought long ago the bonds of my country, desired to be repaid their debts out of the property of the Russian crown which might be found in the West. But behind them were the Jews, and behind the Jews our unsleeping enemies. Once I was enmeshed in the law I would be safe for them, and presently they would find the hiding-place of the treasure, and while the bourgeois were clamouring in the courts it would be safe in their pockets. So I fled. For months I have been fleeing and hiding. They have tried to kidnap me many times, and once they have tried to kill me, but I, too, have become clever—oh, so clever. And I have learned not to fear.”

      This simple recital affected Dickson’s honest soul with the liveliest indignation. “Sich doings!” he exclaimed, and he could not forbear from whispering to Heritage an extract from that gentleman’s conversation the first night at Kirkmichael. “We needn’t imitate all their methods, but they’ve got hold of the right end of the stick. They seek truth and reality.” The reply from the Poet was an angry shrug.

      “Why and how did you come here?” he asked.

      “I always meant to come to England, for I thought it the sanest place in a mad world. Also it is a good country to hide in, for it is apart from Europe, and your police, as I thought, do not permit evil men to be their own law. But especially I had a friend, a Scottish gentleman, whom I knew in the days when we Russians were still a nation. I saw him again in Italy, and since he was kind and brave I told him some part of my troubles. He was called Quentin Kennedy, and now he is dead. He told me that in Scotland he had a lonely château, where I could hide secretly and safely, and against the day when I might be hard-pressed he gave me a letter to his steward, bidding him welcome me as a guest when I made application. At that time I did not think I would need such sanctuary, but a month ago the need became urgent, for the hunt in France was very close on me. So I sent a message to the steward as Captain Kennedy told me.”

      “What is his name?” Heritage asked.

      She spelt it, “Monsieur Loudon—L-O-U-D-O-N in the town of Auchenlochan.”

      “The factor,” said Dickson, “And what then?”

      “Some spy must have found me out. I had a letter from this Loudon bidding me come to Auchenlochan. There I found no steward to receive me, but another letter saying that that night a carriage would be in waiting to bring me here. It was midnight when we arrived, and we were brought in by strange ways to this house, with no light but a single candle. Here we were welcomed indeed, but by an enemy.”

      “Which?” asked Heritage. “Dobson or Lean or Spittal?”

      “Dobson I do not know. Leon was there. He is no Russian, but a Belgian who was a valet in my father’s service till he joined the Bolsheviki. Next day the Lett Spidel came, and I knew that I was in very truth entrapped. For of all our enemies he is, save one, the most subtle and unwearied.”

      Her voice had trailed off into flat weariness. Again Dickson was reminded of a child, for her arms hung limp by her side; and her slim figure in its odd clothes was curiously like that of a boy in a school blazer. Another resemblance perplexed him. She had a hint of Janet—about the mouth—Janet, that solemn little girl those twenty years in her grave.

      Heritage was wrinkling his brows. “I don’t think I quite understand. The jewels? You have them with you?”

      She nodded.

      “These men wanted to rob you. Why didn’t they do it between here and Auchenlochan? You had no chance to hide them on the journey. Why did they let you come here where you were in a better position to baffle them?”

      She shook her head. “I cannot explain—except, perhaps, that Spidel had not arrived that night, and Leon may have been waiting instructions.”

      The other still looked dissatisfied. “They are either clumsier villains than I take them to be, or there is something deeper in the business than we understand. These jewels—are they here?”

      His tone was so sharp that she looked startled—almost suspicious. Then she saw that in his face which reassured her. “I have them hidden here. I have grown very skilful in hiding things.”

      “Have they searched for them?”

      “The first day they demanded them of me. I denied all knowledge. Then they ransacked this house—I think they ransack it daily, but I am too clever for them. I am not allowed to go beyond the verandah, and when at first I disobeyed there was always one of them in wait to force me back with a pistol behind my head. Every morning Leon brings us food for the day—good food, but not enough, so that Cousin Eugenie is always hungry, and each day he and Spidel question and threaten me. This afternoon Spidel has told me that their patience is at an end. He has given me till tomorrow at noon to produce the jewels. If not, he says I will die.”

      “Mercy on us!” Dickson exclaimed.

      “There will be no mercy for us,” she said solemnly. “He and his kind think as little of shedding blood as of spilling water. But I do not think he will kill me. I think I will kill him first, but after that I shall surely die. As for Cousin Eugenie, I do not know.”

      Her level matter-of-fact tone seemed to Dickson most shocking, for he could not treat it as mere melodrama. It carried a horrid conviction. “We must get you out of this at once,” he declared.

      “I cannot leave. I will tell you why. When I came to this country I appointed one to meet me here. He is a kinsman who knows England

Скачать книгу