LITMIR.BIZ

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his own name.

      M. Furet was astute, wise, but not omnipotent. Lavrovski told him too little; he felt it as he spoke. The detective, a Frenchman, guessed there was some mystery, and tried to probe the Russian's secret.

      But Lavrovski was obdurate. When the time came for throwing himself on the detective's discretion he shrank for the task, dared not avow to him the identity of the missing stranger, and only spoke vaguely of him as a young foreigner of distinction.

      The matter was hopeless. M. Furet was waxing inpatient.

      "Monsieur," he said at last, "it seems to me that you have come here to-day with the idea no doubt of enlisting my services in a cause which you have at heart, but also with the firm determination to keep your secrets to yourself. You will, I am sure, on thinking the matter over, see how impossible you have made it for me to be of much service to you."

      "Can you do nothing then?" asked Lavrovski in despair.

      He seemed so dejected, so broken-hearted, that the detective glanced up at him with a certain amount of pity, and said:

      "Will you go home, monsieur, and give the matter your full consideration, quietly and deliberately? Read the police news carefully to ascertain that no mysterious death had occurred, or unknown dead body found. I, in the meanwhile, will make what exhaustive enquiries I can, both at the opera house, the fiaker stations, and at the different railways. Your truant may, after all, reappear in the next day or two. Young men are often led into adventures, that last longer then two or three days. Then come back and see me on a Saturday afternoon, but come back armed with the determination to tell me all. If you cannot bring yourself to do that, do not come at all, and in that case, if I, in the meanwhile, have not found the slightest clue, I will consider the matter dropped as far as I am concerned. And now will monsieur excuse me; my time is valuable, and I have many clients to see."

      M. Furet rose; the interview was over. Lavrovski felt there was nothing more to be done unless he fully made up his mind whether he could confide in a third person or not, and that, for the present, he was not prepared to do. The Frenchman might after all be speaking truly; there was every chance that the Tsarevitch was but perusing a young man's adventure, and nothing further could be lost by waiting. If those who had abducted him had meant any harm to him, the harm would by now be accomplished, and the three days Lavrovski gave himself as a respite–either for the return of the prodigal, if he was alive and unharmed, or for throwing himself on the Tsar's doubtful mercy, if evil had come to Nicholas Alexandrovitch–could matter little.

      He took up his hat, and promising M. Furet to think he case over, in the light he had suggested, bowed to the old detective, and soon found himself in the streets once more.

      He had determined to wait till Saturday, therefore wait he would, without confiding in anyone, still trusting that this terrible adventure would end happily before then, and in the meanwhile bearing his own burden of anxiety alone.

      The only person that would of necessity require some sort of explanation - humble in position though he was–was Nicholas' valet. However little intelligence the man might possess, it would yet strike him as suspicious that his master should leave the hotel, and stay with friends so unexpectedly, that he did not even arrange for the most ordinary necessities of his toilet to be brought to him. Lavrovski, therefore, determined to tell him the partial truth–the truth, that is to say, such as he himself would wish it to be.

      "You must understand, Stepán," he explained, "that his Imperial Highness has thought it fit to absent himself from this hotel for two or three days. But before leaving he gave me the strictest injunctions that we are to keep his absence the most profound secret form everybody, both here and at home. It is not for you, or even I, to question the Tsarevitch's right to do as he pleases; all we can do is to obey his orders as accurately as we can. To everyone, therefore, his Imperial Highness is confined to his bed with an attack of German measles, which is not serious but might last some days. Now do you quite understand me? and can his Imperial Highness entirely rely upon you fidelity and discretion, both now and in the future?"

      "Nicholas Alexandrovitch is my master," said the Russian simply; "he has always found me faithful when he wanted my help, silent when he required my silence. The words I speak are as much at his commands as the deeds I do; I will say what he wishes, or hold my tongue as he desires."

      "That is well, Stepán," said Count Lavrovski; "be sure his Imperial Highness will remember what you do for him to-day."

      Lavrovski knew he could rely on this man; all was well then for the next two days. After that–in God's hands, he thought, with characteristic Oriental fatalism.

      Chapter V

       Table of Contents

       "And must your Eminence really leave us tomorrow?" said the Emperor Franz Jozef I., with polite regret, as Cardinal d'Orsay, Papal Nuncio accredited to the court of Vienna, prepared to rise for the final leave-taking.

      "Indeed, your majesty, did not most imperative duty call me away, I would never of my own accord have left this charming and hospitable city. As it is——" The Cardinal sighed, and a resigned expression crossed the aristocratic features of this martyr to his duty.

      "I am glad, indeed, to think your Eminence has found Vienna so attractive."

      "Not so much Vienna, your Majesty, though the city is delightful in itself, but the Viennese––!" The Cardinal paused, for once in his diplomatic career, words failed him with which to convey his thoughts of this interesting subject.

      "You will find in the grandes dames of St. Petersburg formidable rivals to those of Vienna," said the Emperor pensively.

      his Eminence did not reply. He recollected one or two little perfumed breaths of scandal that had reached his ears, of how one of those grandes dames of St. Petersburg had, last winter, found in Franz Jozef's large and inflammable heart an undisputed if somewhat temporary place. There was silence for a few moments. The Emperor was evidently ill at ease, his hand was toying nervously with the trifling knick-knacks that adorned his writing-table, whilst once or twice he seemed as if about to speak, then checked himself abruptly.

      The Cardinal, whose long diplomatic career had taught him the science of quiet patience, leant back in his chair and waited for what, he knew, the Emperor still wished to say to him.

      "Your Eminence will be seeing many of my old friends at St. Petersburg," said the Emperor at last, with evasive irrelevance.

      "I will make a point of seeing all those your Majesty would wish me to see," replied the Cardinal with pointed courtesy.

      "Your Eminence is most kind, and I feel sure will convey my friendly greetings to the Tsar and Tsaritsa in a far worthier manner than my poor pen could express. I would also wish to be kept in the bons souvenirs of the Grand Duchess Xenia and the Grand Duke, of whose last visit to Vienna I have such agreeable recollections."

      The Cardinal smiled imperceptibly, and his eyes rested for an infinitesimal space of time on a dainty miniature, set in old paste, which no doubt portrayed one of those agreeable recollections.

      Swift as had been the Cardinal's glance, Franz Jozef evidently had caught it, for he added somewhat nervously:

      "And do not forget to lay my humble respects at the feet of the Princess Marïonoff, who, I trust, will soon visit Vienna again, the scene of her last carnival's triumphs."

      "Any written or verbal message your Majesty deigns to entrust me with will be safely delivered," once more assented Cardinal d'Orsay.

      "Take care," said the Emperor, with a nervous laugh, "I may take your Eminence at your word, and send such voluminous messages as will encumber your overladen trunk."

      "My services are at your Majesty's command."

      The Emperor looked keenly for a moment or two longer at his Eminence's astute, diplomatic face, then, as if obeying a sudden impulse, he took

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